two pieces
by rectifyinflux
Summary: Skyeward AU. Coulson found them first. They grew up pseudo-siblings, now they're partners; this is everything in between. [Non-chronological]
1. finally

**Summary: **Skye gets shot, Grant reacts. It's all clichéd really.

The bullet had missed her heart by an inch. A fucking inch.

"Hey, stranger." God. He could've lost her. "Stop freaking out, 'kay?" For a specialist, he wears his heart on his face.

Grant lets out a shuddering breath, sitting on the chair by her bed. "I should've had your six."

"Hello, got shot in the chest remember? And you do have my six." Skye reaches for his hand, curling her fingers around his. "It's not your fault. We did everything right. The guy just got lucky."

"Lucky he was a horrible shot."

"See? Silver lining." She squeezes his fingers. "How are you?"

"You got shot. Almost died. And _you're_ asking _me_ that?"

"I've heard it's emo - mentally exhausting."

"I'm fine, Skye."

"Cut the crap, Ward."

He sighs. "You could've died."

"I didn't. And it's kinda part of the job description. Y'know, bombs, getting shot at - all that shebang."

"You could've died. You could've died all those other times. You can still die. And I still wouldn't be able to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"I could lose you, Skye." He says so softly she wonders if he'd actually said it. "I can't lose you." His eyes meets hers, it's _that_ look. Her breath hitches.

"Grant -"

"No. Please. Just let me get it out there. I can't let you - not without at least telling you. I don't care if you don't - I just need you to know. I love you. Not like a friend or a sister. I _love_ you. And I've been too chicken shit to tell you - I don't think I can handle it if I ruined what we've got, Skye. But goddamnit, I almost lost you today. And I still could but -"

"Hey," she tugs his hand, pulling him closer. The other cups his face, tracing his cheek softly. "Grant." His forehead's resting on hers, their breaths mingling.

"You don't have to say anything. I just needed you to know."

"Oh my God, you idiot." She says, hands moving to his hair to keep him in place. "I can't believe I'm in love with such an idiot."

"Hey - what?" He takes a few seconds to process it before pressing his lips against hers. "I thought - before -"

"You needed a friend more than anything else. Now, you tell me."

"I want us."

end.


	2. did you know?

**Summary**: Grant puts up with Skye

Did you know that there are two groups of monkeys? There's the Old World which is like those in Africa and Asia. And then there's the New World ones -"

"That live in South America."

"You know?!"

"You told me."

"Oh. Well did you know capuchins are rumoured to be one of the smartest species? They can learn skills, use tools - kinda like -"

"Engineers of the monkey world." Ward finishes with an eye roll.

"I've told you that?"

"Multiple times."

"Well - did you -"

"Yes, Skye. I do know that the Pygmy Marmoset is the smallest monkey there is!"

"Damn."

"You've been spending too much time with Fitzsimmons."

"I know." Skye groans. "I actually spent 2 hours listening - actually listening - to them debate the pros and cons of dendrotoxin and tetrodotoxin. Not that they're aiming to kill, it'll be a non-lethal dosage -"

"Skye."

"Goddamnit."

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Are you implying I've been playing hooky, Agent Ward? I'm hurt."

"You've been spouting monkey facts for the past hour." He deadpans.

"Well, it's your fault really."

"Why is it my fault?"

"You're off being 'Ward, Agent Grant Ward' -" Skye says, voice lowered in a poor imitation of him.

"I don't do that." He interjects.

"- in Florence and leaving me behind at the Hub with the science twins."

"How did - That's classified! Level 6, Skye."

"If they didn't want me in there, they should've at least tried making it a challenge. But seriously, I'm bored. Do you know what I did last Wednesday?"

"Putting your nose in places it shouldn't be."

"No." Skye pouts. "I played poker. On Facebook. I have like 550 million dollars or something now."

"Seriously, do you not have work to do?"

"Pfft. It's not that hard. I can do that in my sleep. I think I did once. Could've been a dream. I might've been high on caffeine. Point is, I am this close to Farmville-ing. _Farmville_, Ward. Do you even know what that means?"

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll figure something out."

"Have I told you you're my favourite person?" Skye hugs his arm.

"You told Simmons that last week."

"Yeah. But you're the ultimate favourite person."

He bites the inside of his cheek. He will not take the bait. Nope. _Damnit._

"Ah hah!" Skye fist-pumps. "And the score is now 1356 Skye. 358 Ward."

"Yeah, yeah. I've got paperwork."

"Boo you."

"Go away, Skye."

"You'll miss me when I'm gone." She sing-songs. "Later, Robot!"

"Skye would make a pretty good field agent."

"Jesus." He schools his features, turning to face Melinda May herself smirking. _Where the hell did she even come from?_ "Skye? A field agent?"

"She'll need an SO. Someone good, disciplined, patient."

Itwasn'tbad. Skye wouldn't be bored – maybe she'll stop hacking his stuff then. He'll be able to keep an eye on her. And he'd be limiting the source of monkey trivia to Fitz. Three birds with one stone.

"I'll do it. Wait, you mean me, right?"

May rolls her eyes. "I'll go tell Coulson."


	3. so close

Fluff is so not my forte. Let me know how it goes :)

* * *

**Summary**: Ward, Skye and the City of Lights.

"I could get used to this. Turn down service. Mints on my pillow. The food. And the _view_." Skye sighs. "Not too shabby."

"Don't get used to it. Overnights aren't standard."

Their mission had been in Paris. A Chitauri neural link.

They had a few hiccups, additional security, silent alarms, a change in patrol duty. And the Rising Tide - he really hated them.

He neutralized the hostiles. Skye leaked fake SHIELD operations. He hit a few guys, got punched a few times. They got the merchandise.

No one got shot. Though he did have a scratch on his cheek but he's had way worse.

Relatively speaking, it was a good day.

And now this. He had a feeling Skye had a role in it. Coulson's must've pulled some strings - the man couldn't say no to his daughter.

"You are so predictable. But it's okay – I was prepared for this. Until further notice, you," she jabs him in the chest, "are not Agent Grant Ward. And I'm not Agent Skye. We are," she waves her hand between them, "Skye and Grant. In Paris. And we are going to enjoy it."

He barely reacts to her glare. It's adorable really. _He has to stop_.

"Ward."

"Yeah – okay. Your call."

"Awesome. Now first thing's first –"

"You have an actual itinerary?" He gapes at her phone. It's a list. An actual list. With things on it. "Baguettes for breakfast – actually try escargot – Macarons, every colour – is it _only_ food?"

"That's cuz it's the food part. There's a places section. Geez, Ward." She shoves him away, shielding the screen from his view.

"You're not even this thorough for paperwork."

"Shut up."

* * *

"Oh my God."

Ward's torn between amusement and embarrassment. Skye was such a tourist.

"Holy crap, Ward! We are really in Paris. And that's the Eiffel Tower. Now I'm standing under it. If this is a dream, do not wake me up!"

He grins, snapping a quick photo of her. "Wanna head up?"

"That shouldn't even be a question." Skye scoffs.

She drags him up the stairs and is practically vibrating as they stand in the elevator.

* * *

"Do we really have to go? Can't we stay like one more day?"

They're strolling by the river. If his hand's still holding hers, Ward doesn't say a word but he does tug her closer.

Ward laughs, "I don't think Fury would approve using SHIELD resources so you can cross Paris off your bucket list."

"Such ignorance. Paris is its own list."

"What's on it?"

"The usual and a bit more. It's still in progress."

"We'll come back."

"But no mission next time. Just you, me and Paris."

"Really? You're making me pinky promise it?" Ward asks incredulously. He links them anyways.

She's a child. He loves her, still.

"Ward, look!"

He tenses, hand reaching for the gun under his jacket. Skye's pointing to the riverside. To a crowd. "Let's go!"

Ward barely has time to open his mouth in protest before he's stumbling forwards as she tugs him there. Skye pulls him through the dancers, straight to the middle.

He stands there awkwardly as she does a very _Skye_ jig, spinning around him in circles.

She's such a dork. He loves her, still.

"Come on, R2. I know you've got moves." Skye says, attempting to move his arms. He probably looks like a very uncoordinated squid. "Dance with me."

He's a sucker for the Bambi eyes. He places a hand on her waist, hers on his shoulder and Skye's leading some sort of dance – it's a cross between a weird waltz and swing dancing.

Ward twirls her around a few times, hearing her giggles which turn into loud laughs. He doesn't even care that everyone's watching. Or that he looks like a complete idiot.

_It's not like we'll see them tomorrow or something. Chill out._

He pulls Skye back into his arms. Her cheeks are tinted a light pink as she grins up at him. He smiles back.

_This is it._ He can do this. It's simple. The situation's perfect. The universe is practically telling him to do it.

"C'mon, I want to show you something."

Ward's been to all seven continents but in that moment, he swears he's never seen anything more breathtaking.

The fabric of her red dress billows around her legs ("I want the full - semi-full experience"). He doesn't get why a dress is necessary for Paris but whatever. Her curls are dancing in the gentle night breeze, whipping against her cheeks. She's gorgeous.

"What do you think?"

He joins her by the railing. Her mouth is parted slightly in awe. Brown eyes wide with wonder, reflecting the lights of Paris' night skyline. He could just look at her all night.

"It's so beautiful."

Ward smiles back at her. Maybe it's her contagious nature. Maybe it's Paris. He doesn't know. The feeling's back. His heart's racing – beating so fast he's sure Skye can hear it. Was it possible for it to break through his ribs? He'll have to ask Simmons.

Why the hell was his throat this dry? _Okay, breathe._ It's like defusing a bomb. He needs to be calm. Assess the situation. Take action.

"Skye – I"

"I'm glad you like it." He finishes lamely.

* * *

PARIS!

With _him_.


	4. would you stand up and walk out on me

**Summary**: Ward meets Fitzsimmons.

Ward pins the ID to his suit, making his way to Sci-Ops. He was due to meet Skye for lunch and she'd insisted he had to meet her new friend. Fitzsimmons. He still wasn't sure if it was a guy or a girl.

He scans the signs. _Wendell…Baxter…Morgan…Plum_. He snorts. There was a Professor Plum somewhere in SHIELD.

There are loud voices bouncing through hallway. At least two of them. Male and female.

He walks closer towards the section where the pristine white walls turned into glass. The name _Fitzsimmons_ is etched on a plaque. He sees two people, they didn't look old enough to even be out of high school let alone be in a SHIELD lab, unsupervised.

" – the bullets work. Non-lethal, heavy stopping power, break up under the subcutaneous tissue –"

"With a dose of .1 microliters of dendrotoxin. I'm not Hermione! I can't create instant paralysis with that. You should've run the specs by me before you went about building the molds –"

"- keep them from pulling apart in the chamber –"

" – should've used a higher caliber round –"

" – have you ever heard of physics – or what's the other one? Inertia!"

Can they even hear what they're saying? Ward feels the need to stop them. His brain is actually hurting from trying to process the words and who's saying what.

"Which one of you is Fitzsimmons?"

They look at him. It's like looking at kittens – confused, newborn kittens.

"Agent Ward?" The male recovers first.

"Oh! Skye told us you'd be joining. That's Fitz."

"Simmons." Fitz tilts his head in her direction. "I'm engineering. She's biochem."

"There's two of you. You're two people."

They stare at him, oddly. Like he's a child who's lost. He stares back. And then Simmons is in his face, standing on her tiptoes. Flashing a light in his eyes.

"Have you been experiencing any nausea? Headaches?"

Ward recoils, bumping into the glass wall. "What? No."

"What day is it?" Fitz asks.

"Tuesday."

Fitzsimmons exchange a glance. He doesn't like it. "How odd."

"Have you been having difficulties sleeping?" Simmons presses.

"No."

"Well, you're not exhibiting any indicators of having had a concussion."

"I don't -"

"He's probably used to it!"

"Oh, Fitz."

"Hit his head too many times to bloody count. Skull's used to it."

"That's not how it works." Simmons sighs, exasperatedly. "Are you certain you're fine? Untreated, they may lead to long-term problems such speech, movement – it can affect your balance which as a specialist, you will no doubt –"

"We could always have the dwarves –"

"Oh – right!"

_Dwarves_? Now he wonders if he did hit his head. Ward ducks as a thing whizzes towards him. "What the hell?"

"Hold still." Fitz says, peering at his tablet.

Simmons offers him a wide smile, before joining her counterpart. They're doing it again. Ward's too busy staring at the flying thing in front of him to register any of what they're saying – he probably wouldn't understand half of it.

"Sorry I'm late!" Skye yells, crashing into his back. "Sitwell had me go down to the archives. _Archives_. We actually have that. Like why haven't the stuff been digitized? Computers are a thing right. I didn't just dream it – what is going on?"

He sighs in relief when the robot-thing heads for Skye instead. "Hey, Doc." The robot-thing _purrs_. Like a cat.

"You're such a darling." Simmons coos, petting the robot as it rests in Fitz's hand.

Skye sidles to his side, nudging his shoulder. "What do you think?"

"They're –" fussing over a piece of metal, "something."

"They're _cute_."

Not the word he'd use. Though he could see why they were Fitzsimmons, they functioned like they were one unit. A person instead of two. When Fitz stopped talking, Simmons took up the sentence and it continued that way until they reached whatever conclusion they needed to.

"It's like they share a brain – or are psychically linked." Skye whispers. "They do that all the time. You'll get used to it."

Skye brings her thumb and forefinger to her lips, releasing a shrill sound that have the scientists startled. "Time out. Let's grab some grub."

"Excellent. I'm starving."

"You're always starving, Fitz." Simmons rolls her eyes.

"Thinking takes a lot. My brain needs to refuel."

Ward shouldn't be afraid of this tiny scientist. He's not. But he does flinch when the Scot claps his back, trying to put an arm around over his shoulder. "Now, Agent Ward, Skye says you've been to Colombia. Did you get a chance to see a tamarin?"

Skye gives him a wide grin, two thumbs up.

Why couldn't he have normal friends?

* * *

**AN: Skye and Ward go through a lot over the years. If there's something you want to see/think happen, let me know and I'll try to incorporate them into their story. Feel free to pm me your ideas/prompts :)**

**and thank you to all who's read, reviewed, favourited and followed the story. You guys are awesome :D**


	5. should wear a warning

******AN: If you were expecting the other parts of _we are ripe to fall_, I apologize. But it's coming soon. This just happened because I******** may have seen too many pics of Brett Dalton, lately, recently. I don't know, guys. Thanks for continuing to stay with this. Um, read and react appropriately?**

**Summary**: Skye has a moment of weakness because she can only be so strong and - well, have you seen Ward?!

* * *

It was so cliché. Like in those movies where the little sister has the major crush on her big brother's hot friend.

Skye's problem was way more complicated. The hot friend in the scenario was her brother - sort of - not really! They're not related, okay! No blood shared at all. Like no weird half-siblings, step-siblings or any hyphenated sibling title thing.

None of that Cruel Intentions stuff.

Even foster siblings sounded wrong.

But that's okay. Ward doesn't call Coulson Dad like she occasionally does. So that's okay? _Way to justify, Skye_.

Shit. What if they were related? She doesn't know anything about her family! What if they were siblings separated at birth? Well, that's stupid. They don't look anything alike. So that's out. Distant cousins, like once or twice removed. That was ok, right? No weirdness or anything. Why is she even – they are not related! Like at all. Period. Stop.

God. Her life sucked.

Nope. Her life was better - better than before at St. Agnes. She's got a family (she actually has that!) someone to call Dad, Mom and Grandma! And her own room that she can decorate however the hell she wants! Someone to ground her if she sneaks out of the house - wait, why is that a good thing?

But geez, it was unfair. Why was the hottest person she knew - like actually knows, in real life and who knows her - her brother-ish stand-in figure?!

Like there is no chance there. Even if she wasn't bad looking, no troll under a bridge looking thing - she's maybe a bit above average.

He looks like those sculptures. Or male models with perfect abs. Washboard abs. The kind you can wash your clothes on!

And that guy ruffles her hair. Ruffles. Her. Hair. _Like she is a little kid_. You can't recover from that!

He's actually in charge of her. Coulson actually says the words "You're in charge" to Ward. Like a babysitter. Or older sibling.

Ugh. She hates this.

She hates Ward.

And his stupid perfect hair. A tornado could run through it and probably nothing would happen.

And the stupid cheekbones. Who needs cheekbones that sharp? Does he kill people with those? It's probably in some report somewhere, that he has done damage with them. She'll have to look for it.

And the stupid smile when he does smile. Skye likes making him smile, even if most of the time he probably thinks she's an idiot. And hates his life for having to put up with her - well that went dark. She likes the smile, okay? Why doesn't he smile more? It's a nice thing to look at. When his lip curls just slightly.

Wait - she likes it better when it reaches his eyes. That's even more rare. Why the hell wasn't he more happy anyways? Life is pretty awesome.

Oh my God. Buddy. He always has those smiles when he's playing with Buddy.

Unfair. Why can't he smile at her like that? Yes, she is jealous of a dog. Deal with it.

And his abs - damn those abs. It was like he was photoshopped. Gah!

And she hates his eyes most. The stupid amber colour. It was too expressive. Skye was sure he could convey everything with just his eyes - like seriously, no words needed.

(Sometimes she imagines what it'd be like if he looked at her that way, what colour would his eyes be, maybe it'll look like whiskey. Or the sunset. And she'll feel like her body's on fire because it's too much.)

But it'll never happen. Sigh. She's been little-sister-zoned (but they're not related!)

Skye's seen him checking girls out. He's not subtle - and he's a James-Bond-in-training (that has to be a cause of concern). Has seen how his eyes look over them. Great, she's made him sound like a perv.

She snorts. She is 85% sure that Ward is terrified of girls. Like legit terrified. He literally freezes when one comes within a 5-foot radius of him.

Skye has witnessed countless incidents where he turns into a stumbling idiot around Romanoff. And the Russian assassin is around a lot cuz of Coulson - sometimes it is pretty hilarious, okay most of the time. All the time.

Skye doesn't blame him. She is pretty fucking awesome. Like she would probably be into Romanoff too. If she played for the other team. Which she doesn't. And it's weird anyways. Nat was like that big sister. Who teaches her how to wear makeup and how to knee a guy in the balls and make it really hurt.

They even have girl time. Where the Black Widow gives her boy advice (and some getting rid of boys advice).

None of which works.

Because Ward doesn't stammer, stumble, sweat excessively or act abnormal when she's around. He doesn't react. Unless you count him rolling his eyes. Because that happens a lot. It's normal, default reaction to her.

He's okay with her because she's in the LIS zone (little sister zone). And it's not fair.

Skye wants him to look at her like that. But not now, maybe when she's a bit older like in 2 years when there's no law that makes it weird and illegal. And maybe not like that. But more like she's the only thing that matters to him, like maybe she's beautiful to him or something.

"Skye!"

"Wha -"

Ward is in front of her, glaring. _What did she do now_?

"Didn't you - Coulson's been calling for the past 5 minutes. He's leaving soon. You should go say goodbye."

"Oh."

_Don't check him out. Look away. Do not _- too late. He must have been working out again. His grey t-shirt is stained with sweat. Look at those arms. She's seen him doing push ups - it was better than TV. The way the muscles -

"Are you high?"

"No."

He grabs her chin, looking at her pupils. "What're you on?"

Skye gulps. _Shit. Abort_. "Nothing." She swats his hand away, "Gross. You're sweaty."

He rolls his eyes. _See?_ "Downstairs."

A guy that good-looking is in her life. And he's – off limits? Or is she off-limits? But that would imply that he actually wants her, which he doesn't. So it's just her really. _Great_.

"Ow!" She rubs her forehead.

Did he just _flick_ her? Seriously, Ward?!

"Downstairs. Now."

Life was unfair. And cruel.


	6. we are ripe to fall, part i

**_we are ripe to fall, part i: when your world crashes down_**

* * *

Their orders were simple. Find the briefcase. Find Agent Barton. And maybe they'll find Loki.

They've been grounded to the Triskelion until further notice. Skye was needed – something about satellites (he knows what it means, they need her to go off book and use all means necessary). Ward's on standby, ready to leave at a moment's notice.

Then, Loki was spotted in Germany. Captain America had shown up. And Iron Man. Only they were called the Avengers. The Avengers Initiative.

And technically, they weren't supposed to know about it. It was need to know, above their clearance level. But Skye had found out. By hacking Coulson's itinerary. Again. Ward basically has no pull whatsoever when she wants to do something.

(He's secretly interested but he'd rather die than admit that.)

(He doesn't know Skye knows.)

"Do you think AC's asked Cap to sign the cards?" Skye asks.

"Knowing Coulson, probably." Ward replies.

They're in a temporary office – by Skye's definition. It's actually a closet with damaged furniture, a few filing cabinets, shelves and absolutely no windows whatsoever. Skye always did like those little dark cramped spaces.

And now here he is, sitting with his knees pushed against his chest because his legs were too damn long. Reading by the light of a table lamp that miraculously still worked.

He regulates his breathing, letting the sound of Skye's fingers hitting the keys calm him. Ward looks up when he feels her foot nudge him.

"You don't have to be here." She says, staring at him over her laptop.

"I'm good."

Skye shifts across the floor, resting against the cabinet opposite him. Her elbow rests on his bent leg. The hand not holding his book was aimlessly tracing patterns on her calf.

"Anything?"

"A lot. Just none that's relevant."

She pinches his leg to get his attention. "We'll find Clint. Nat's out looking for him too." Skye snorts as his ears turned pink. _So predictable_.

"Shut up." He jabs her ribs with his foot.

* * *

Skye had managed to hack into the Helicarrier's system. Needed to know how Coulson was doing. They both did. They had seen him through various cameras up until communications fell through.

They're in the middle of suiting up, on standby, when the order comes. They report to the hangar where a quinjet whisks them to a SHIELD facility in Bethesda. Their tech had been seized the moment they stepped foot on the ramp.

Skye fidgets uncontrollably, prompting him to hand over the miniature Rubix cube he kept on hand for exactly this.

Ward felt uneasy about being kept in the dark, they weren't told anything. He hated going in blind. That was how people got killed.

Melinda May is there to greet them when they land. The senior agent looked more grave than usual, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Agent Hand is expecting you."

"Hand?" Ward asks, turning to face Skye.

"Whatever it was, this time it wasn't me. I swear."

"May, what's going on?"

"She'll explain everything."

Skye moves closer to his side, taking his hand. He can sense her fear. Ward offers her a small smile hoping to reassure. He's unsettled. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

May leads them through the throng of hallways. Ward can't help the chill that runs down his spine. It was too cold down here. Too sterile.

"Agent Ward, Agent Skye." Hand says. "If you'll step inside."

"May." Skye says, latching onto the agent's arm with her free hand.

Hand nods. This room looks like a standard hospital room. Clean and smelling of antiseptic. The only light source was a lamp suspended over a table behind a screen. May closes the door behind her, standing to Skye's left.

"What's going on, ma'am?" Ward asks, shoulder partially blocking Skye.

"I assume you've been keeping up with the current events that have taken place."

"Until the Helicarrier comms got cut."

Ward's brow furrows when Hand doesn't even react to Skye's admission. Her face held none of the usual features – her "grumpy face" as Skye calls it.

"The Helicarrier fell under attack and a prisoner escaped." Hand says. "The Director of SHIELD has asked me to express his deep regret that Agent Phillip J. Coulson was killed in the line of duty."


	7. we are ripe to fall, part ii

_**we are ripe to fall, part ii: lost till you're found**_

* * *

"I'm sorry for your loss."

They had just spoken to Coulson – just now, no, yesterday, last night! He was fine. He was laughing. He was coming home. They were going home.

She turned to May. The senior agent faced the ground.

_"__What do I call you? Phil?" Skye tries out._

_"__I'd prefer if you didn't call me that."_

_"__How about AC? For Agent Coulson? It's way cooler."_

_"__Hey Dad!"_

_There's a small confused smile._

_"__I guess that's on the table too then." Skye grins._

Her eyes fell onto the table in the middle of the room. The kind she sees on CSI. For dead bodies. Skye moves forward pushing past Hand, barely registering the screen falling. Her hands ripped at the white sheet.

_Skye raps her knuckles against the door, entering Coulson's office. He's slumping over the desk, head held up by his hand as he goes through the pile of papers. _

_Aw hell. "Ward says you wanted to talk to me."_

_"__Sit."_

_It was like being in Sister Lillian's office all over again. He looks up, his face worn and tired. Only it was a million times worse._

_"__I'm sorry!" Skye blurts. "I shouldn't have gone through your things. I didn't look at any of your work stuff. I swear!"_

_"__What were you looking for, Skye?" _

_Anger she could handle. Disappointment too. Skye's let down so many people in her life - she stopped counting. And caring._

_ "__And this time, I want the whole truth. No more lies."_

_But disappointing Coulson was like leaving a puppy out in the rain._

_Skye looks down to the fingers fidgeting in her lap. "I was looking for my parents."_

_"__There's nothing on me. Just a piece of paper with the name they gave. Mary Sue Poots." She says bitterly. "It's why I learned to crack codes – to hack. I wanted to know."_

_"__Did you find anything?"_

_She shook her head. "There's nothing. No records. No trace of them."_

_"__Why now?"_

_"__I found a document. It's the only thing I could find. But it was redacted –"_

_"__By SHIELD." Coulson says. "Skye, people hide things for a reason. Because you might not like what you find."_

_"__It can't be worse than what I've already imagined."_

_ "__If you're sure you want to find out about your parents –"_

_"__I'm sure."_

_"__Then let me help."_

_"__You will?"_

_"__Yes. But no more hacking to look for them. I'll do what I can. You have to trust me on this, okay?"_

"No. Oh God. No."

It was Coulson.

Smiling as if he was asleep, in the middle of a good dream. Napping in his suit. _He was asleep_. And when he'd wake up, they'd watch Saturday morning cartoons together, in their pyjamas, with cereal, Ward can scoff all he wants. _He wasn't dead_.

This is just another op. Coulson got injured in them all the time, he was always fine. He was going to come home. To them. Like always.

"Where are the doctors? Why aren't they treating him?"

Agent Hand looks at her from across the table, "There was nothing they could do. He was already gone by the time the medical team got there." Skye shakes her off. "There is nothing to do."

_Skye lowers the window. "Mind if I join you?"_

_Coulson steps into the SUV, reclining the seat. "It's kinda nice in here. I can see why you like it."_

_"__It's like my closet. Only way roomier. Doesn't smell like rosewater. And my butt doesn't get numb after sitting for 3 hours."_

_"__Any reason why you're hiding?"_

_"__Just needed some time from Ward. He's been speaking Russian all morning. Only Russian. He knows I can't understand any of it."_

_"__Am I interrupting?"_

_"__Nope. I've always got time for AC." Skye says. "But if you pull a Ward, I'm kicking you out."_

_"Fair enough."_

The red blossoms over the blue. A bizarre pattern. Like tie dye. Coulson wouldn't wear those. He doesn't own those. He would hate this.

_"__Do you know how hard it is getting blood off clothes?"_

_Skye looks up from her homework. Coulson's scrubbing furiously at the sink. "Maybe you should consider not wearing your suits into the field. It's kinda dangerous. You're practically wearing a noose. Don't they have tactical clothes – like what May wears?"_

_"__You want me to wear a catsuit?"_

_"__Images." Skye grimaces. "No. Maybe a dude version of it."_

_"__Suits are easy. Sophisticated."_

_"__Potentially deadly."_

_"__Simple." He holds up the white shirt. "I think it's a lost cause."_

_"__You can't even see the blood – much."_

_"__It was blue."_

There's a hole in his shirt. In his chest. Open. Gaping.

Where his heart was.

It was still. Why was it still? Pump blood. The heart was supposed to pump blood. Why wasn't it doing its job?

Why wasn't anyone doing their job?

He was with Fury, Romanoff and Captain America. With the Avengers. He was with superheroes – people with _actual_ powers. Coulson was safer than anyone else.

What the fuck was all the training for if this happened? Where the fuck were all those superheroes when her Dad faced him? Where was his stupid idol? Why the fuck was he so stupid to face a god? By himself?

Stupid, stupid man. He was so stupid!

He was goddamn _human_. No super soldier serum. No iron suit. No god. No turning into green raging things. No mad ninja skills. No powers. They should have protected him.

Shouldn't have let him face Loki alone! Why did they let him? Why did Fury let him?

He was just a man. Why didn't they protect him? Why didn't they stop him?

Skye reached for his hand, fingers pressing against his wrist, searching desperately for the pulse. There had to be a pulse. _The medics probably missed it_.

_"__Coulson, Skye."_

_Skye releases a shaky breath, stepping onto the stage. Her eyes scanned the crowd. Of course they weren't here. She knew they had work._

_It was just high school anyways. She didn't care. No big deal. She didn't even want to be here. 4 years for a piece of paper. Whatever._

_She could burn it if she wanted. It was nothing. Yup. She's burning it later. Then they'd have something to really celebrate._

_A shrill whistle pierced through the applause. Skye's head shot up. Ward was leaning against the wall of the auditorium, grinning._

_Coulson was next to him. He was smiling – a huge happy smile. And even though they on separate ends of the room, Skye could see it. His eyes were a bit glassy._

_A warm feeling blossomed in her chest. She'd done it. She had graduated._

_She had practically sprinted to them, shoving her way through tons of highly emotional people, straight into Coulson's open arms. "I knew you could do it." He says, pressing a kiss to her hair._

_"__I'm so proud of you, Skye." His voice is muffled – it was probably her hair. She had a lot of that. But Ward swears he was crying._

"Coulson, come back." She clutched at his hands. "Come back! Dad, come back. DAD!"

"Skye," May says softly, placing an arm around her trembling shoulders. "He's gone."

"No. How can you say that?! He's not. No. May!" Her arms wrapped around his torso in a hug, just like those other times.

Before he'd leave for an op that took him away for too long (a week sometimes longer). When he'd come home, bruised but breathing. With stories (always filtered, always vague,). And little gifts. Trinkets from wherever it was he'd been.

"You have to let go." May's hands are on hers, trying to ease her grip. Skye tries to fight her, elbows pushing back, legs kicking wildly. She hits something. May's ribs. "Skye. You have to let go." She hauls the girl into her arms, in a vice grip, rubbing her back.

"I need you to breathe. In and out. Please, Skye."

"He can't go. I can't - he'll come back. Dad always does." Skye falls, taking May down with her. "He can't leave me."

_"__You're going to send me back now?"_

_"__Hey, look at me." Coulson kneels, taking her hands in his. "Why would you think that?"_

_"__It's been 3 months."_

_"__Is that supposed to mean something?"_

_"__Time's up. They always send me back. Never a good fit."_

_"__Maybe you were just in the wrong box."_

_Skye looks up, confused. _

_"__I'd like to think you're in the right one now." Coulson wears that smile – it's warm, comforting, speaking of promises and hope that good things will come._

_Skye lets herself believe she's finally home._

Fuck Loki. Fuck SHIELD. Fuck everything.

She just wanted her Dad back.

* * *

**AN: This went through too many revisions so thought I'd post it before it got out of hand.**

**Do review and let me know how this story's going so far. Feedback is much appreciated :) thanks for reading**


	8. we are ripe to fall, part iii

_**we are ripe to fall, part iii: swim till you drown**_

(If anyone's interested, M83's Too Late was playing in the background whilst I thought up and wrote most of this so go ahead and listen if it helps - maybe?)

* * *

"I'm sorry for your loss."

It was like he wasn't there. But he was. He sees Hand's expression. May's unshed tears – he's never seen May like this; vulnerable, it's unsettling. He hears Skye's anguished cry.

Death. He smells it. How had he missed it?

Skye bumps into him as she moves closer to the centre, to where Hand is standing, tearing the sheet away.

"No. Oh God. No."

It's Coulson.

He wants to throw up – feels the bile rise, he chokes it down.

He needs to leave. Get out. It's the place. They're in a fucking morgue. It's the body, Coulson's there. On the table.

He needs to get out. Can't see Coulson. He can't be here. Can't listen to Skye. Can't stand the room.

Ward leaves. His vision's hazy. They're not tears. He has nothing to cry about. Coulson wasn't dead.

It's a nightmare he'll wake up from. He just needs to wake up.

He stumbles against the walls, his own feet; shoving away hands that reach out. Doesn't want their concern, their pity.

They don't know anything.

His feet take him to a stairwell. Nothing like that room. Where Coulson – "FUCK!" His fist collides with the wall. Once. Twice. Three times and keeps going. It feels good.

He imagines it's Loki who's on the receiving end. Imagines the son of a bitch crumpled and hurting - God, he wanted him to really hurt.

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"I'm not weak." Ward answers._

_"Does punching Wilson make you stronger?"_

_"Yeah. Didn't you see him?" It was bad – brutal, almost._

_Too damaged to be saved. Too broken to be mended. _

_"Strength's a funny thing."_

_He doesn't see why. Then again, he never gets Coulson's jokes._

_"Everyone thinks strength is about being bigger. To be able to hit the hardest. Beating the crap out of someone is easy. Being the bigger person is harder."_

_Coulson's expression was neutral. But it made him feel - bad. Guilty._

_Ward's never cared about what people thought. Why would he? They always left anyway. When they realized he was just that messed up._

_"Do you know what the cool thing about Captain America is?"_

_This had the potential to become an hour long rant on how awesome Coulson's idol was. And it's happened before. He'd really rather an entire weekend of chores._

_"His shield? The outfit? Superpowers?"_

_"And that means?" _

_"He's a superhero."_

_"Really?" Coulson's got that irritating I-know-something-you-don't smile._

_Ward honestly doesn't know what to say._

_"So if I were to have super strength and then go around threatening people with it when things don't go my way -"_

_"You'd be pretty close to the villain end of the spectrum - damnit."_

_Ward really should've seen this coming. _

_Coulson grins. "So I guess heroes aren't heroes because of the powers they have," He's about to respond when Coulson continues, "but rather what they do with it. Just some food for thought."_

_He was like a walking motivational book, complete with scarily well-put together sentences - did the man spend his free time coming up with them in the hopes a situation like this arises?_

_Maybe._

Coulson couldn't be dead. He doesn't deserve to die! Not this way. Not so soon. Not on a Helicarrier. Not alone.

He deserves a life where he's old. Sharing his stories. Cracking his jokes. He deserves to die when he's ripe and grey. Surrounded by family. Where he can see all he's done. All he's leaving behind.

Coulson deserved that. He was good. The world needed people like that. People like that shouldn't die by the hands of maniacs like Loki.

There were people like him and then people like Coulson. People like him were there so people like Coulson didn't have to die like this!

He was supposed to die in battle. Sacrificing his life for those like Coulson. A fair trade.

_It was his job. To make the hard call. To kill the bad people. Before they got to the nice people._

_ Protect. That's what he does. His job. To be that line._

_"Nice night." Coulson says, arms crossed as he looks up._

_"I'm fine, sir."_

_Coulson names a few constellations, telling the stories behind them. He's heard it all before. It doesn't make him feel better._

_He feels the blood. On his skin. Under his nails. Ward looks down. They're clean, no blood. Just hands, his hands._

_But he can't forget. Can't undo what he's done even if it was for the better. Can't unsee what he'd left in the aftermath. Can't anything really._

_He doesn't know how long they've been outside. Or how Coulson's still talking._

_"The manuals - training don't say anything – about – when – it's -," His hands are still shaking. He clenches them into fists._

_"It's not easy. Sometimes you have to make the hard call. "_

_"But how do you – does it – how do you deal with it? Does it get easier? How do you – get used to it?_

_"You shouldn't." Coulson says. "Taking a life – any life - should never feel right or easy. Ridiculous as it may sound, a piece of your soul dies. It's like losing a part of yourself. But dwelling on it doesn't help either – kinda makes it worse really."_

What was the last thing he said? When did they last talk? Sometimes he hates that he can't voice them, how he feels. It's always there – at the tip of his tongue but the words never come out.

It was foolish but he figured there was time. Enough for him to be able to say those words – everything he needed to say. Why couldn't he just say it? He knows words weren't his forte – he says the wrong things, always.

"You're a man of action, Ward." He remembers Skye saying.

He hopes she's right. Hopes that he's done all he can to show Coulson all the things he hasn't been able to say – what he'll never get to say.

He hopes Coulson knows how thankful he is. For showing up at the prison. For the chance. For pushing just enough that he knows someone cares.

_"WARD!"_

_Even for Skye this was unusual. He nearly fell down the stairs in his haste. "What?" Her eyes are wide, holding a plain white envelope._

_ The SHIELD embelm is on it. Shit. His results. He tears away the seal. The words don't make sense, all jumbled up._

_"Skye, read it." He holds it out with shaky fingers._

_What if they rejected him? They wouldn't trust him - couldn't trust him. He could end up burning their offices. What if he went rogue?_

_"You're in!" He's processing her words when she tackles him. "I told you. I bet you feel really stupid that you panicked all week."_

_"I don't panic." His response is automatic._

_Shit. He's in. SHIELD accepted him. Coulson - what if he pulled strings? Probably put in a word with Fury._

_"Dad! Ward got in."_

_"I think the whole neighbourhood knows."_

_"We need to celebrate!" Skye decides._

_He can hear her rummaging through the cupboards. He has to read it himself - it's true. In black and white. It's on paper. Maybe it's a prank – but Skye wasn't that cruel (she knew what this meant to him)._

_"But what about - do they know - and they still?"_

_"We all make mistakes, Grant. It's what we do after that matters."_

_"Thank you, sir. For everything."_

_Coulson frowns. "I didn't do anything. You did."_

_Ward doesn't protest when Coulson hugs him. "Good job, son."_

_Any bastard can be a father but it takes more to be a Dad._ He can't remember where he got that but it made sense.

He hopes Coulson knows that he's the only father he's ever known. That he was the only person in his life worthy of the title Dad.

He hopes Coulson knows he does love him. That he is family – him and Skye. All the family he had left – all the family he needed.

They don't sound human – the sound, the noises. He knows it's him. He closes his mouth but he can't stop, he can't stifle them.

He can't breathe. Why can't he breathe?

His eyes sting, he blinks furiously. It's no use. The tears are hot as they streak down his cheeks and they don't stop. Why can't he stop?

Ward can't remember the last time he cried. Crying was a weakness. People saw weaknesses and exploited them. Used them to hurt him. To hurt everything that mattered to him. He'd learned that – the hard way.

And yet here he was crying in a stairwell.

_"Why should I trust you?" _

_"That's for you to decide. I've said all I can. The rest is up to you."_

_"What if I don't go with you? To that place?"_

_"Then you've made your choice. The only thing I ask is that you think about it. I'll be back tomorrow."_

_"Why?" Ward calls out. Coulson stops in his tracks._

_"Because I think you're worth saving."_

_His laugh is harsh. "You can't save me."_

_"Everyone can be saved if you get to them early enough. Sleep on it, Grant."_

Fuck training. He can't compartmentalize – not now.

He just wants his Dad back.

* * *

**AN: I hope I've done Ward some justice in his reaction. There's a May chapter that I've been working on but I'm not sure if it'll fit in here. Let me know if you're interested and I'll definitely try to get that done. Let me know what you guys want - like possible moments, prompts etc.**

**And thank you to those who've read, supported (in various ways) and continued to stick with this, really it means A LOT. Feedback is very much appreciated :) **


	9. we are ripe to fall, part iv

_**we are ripe to fall, part iv: that's where you'll find me**_

* * *

"Ward?" Skye croaks, head lifting, craning her neck. "Where's Ward?"

She's suddenly pushing away, scrambling to her feet, May stabilizes her. She wipes at her cheeks, blinking to clear her vision. Her eyes are wild, searching the room but steadily avoiding Coulson. The specialist was nowhere to be seen. How hadn't she noticed? _Why hadn't she noticed?_

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"We have to find him. Ward – he can't be alone right now. He might –" She's afraid to finish the sentence. Would he seek revenge? Go after the bastard that had taken Coulson away? "May, we have to find him."

_Before he does anything stupid. Before he gets himself killed._

_Before she loses him too._

"He's still here, Skye. There's nowhere to go."

"He can fly a damn plane! Oh God. What if he really goes for Loki? How long were we – he could already be there!"

"I'm not leaving you."

"I'm fine!" Skye snatches her wrist from May, glaring. "I need to find him."

May sighs. "We will. I'll check the hangar. Just don't leave the base, come get me and we'll go together. Skye. Promise me."

"Fine. I promise. Just find him."

This hallway had too many doors. She has to think. Ward wouldn't have access, so nothing with keypads. _Think like Ward_. If he was here, where would he be?

No offices. Not the waiting room. Not the toilets.

He'd isolate himself.

Nowhere people would go. Nowhere people would be to see.

He'd hide.

* * *

"Ward?"

"Leave me alone!" He yells. It's muffled, watery.

She pushes the door, throwing light on his crumpled figure. Her heart breaks. His entire body was folded, taking as little space as possible. He was choking, each sob stealing more and more of his air. She moves to him, kneeling between his knees, "Ward," prying at his arms.

He shoves her away. "Get the fuck out, Skye!"

"No." She tries again, latching on this time. "Grant."

"Go away. Just go away. Please."

"I can't do that." He wipes his face on his arms, she feels moisture. Cupping his face, she tilts it up towards her. His cheeks are wet, eyes brimming with even more tears threatening to spill. He turns away, stubborn as an ox like he always was. "I get it, okay? But you're allowed to cry."

"It's a weakness."

She feels the anger rising again, tightening her hold on him. "Fuck that asshole brother of yours. He's an idiot. A heartless bastard. We've just lo – Dad -" She grits her teeth, exhaling through her nose. "Look, you're allowed to cry."

"I'm weak."

"Crying doesn't make you weak. It means you're human." Skye hugs him to her, fingers carding through his hair. "If you weren't crying, then I'd be pretty pissed off."

"I wouldn't think any less of you for crying. And I don't. Sometimes we just have to cry – even Special Agent Grant Ward."

There's a hiccup. His arms wrap around her chest, clinging with everything in him, face pressed to her neck – she feels the tears, his breath in short pants. "Don't shut me out, Grant."

"I can't lose you too."

* * *

**AN: It's a bit short. Leave me your thoughts :)**


	10. we are ripe to fall, part v

_**we are ripe to fall, part v: strong till you break**_

She felt useless. Helpless. Stuck here in her cubicle, unable to do anything.

Her office wasn't a base. But there were soldiers here, now, suited up and ready should the call come. They were on the verge of a war – fighting for their world.

The place was chaotic. No one was working. What did it matter? The world could end. Stapling level 3 memos can wait. And if the world did end, then it really wouldn't matter.

SHIELD communications were abuzz with everything. She wants to suit up – but she doesn't, _she can't_. Against men, against aliens, against pixies, against whatever - war was still war. And she's fought enough.

She's seen enough conflict to last at least five lifetimes.

Her fingers clench the arms of her seat. _She should be out there_.

_Maria Hill calling…_

"Are you alright?" She's never been one for greetings and pleasantries had no place now.

"I'm fine. We're trying to get comms back up,"

"What's happening?"

"War."

She was afraid of this. Ward would be sent in now. Their final line. "How's Phil? Has he met Rogers?"

"Mel – there's something - something's happened. It's Coulson. He's –"

_Don't let him be dead._

"He's gone, Mel."

Melinda swallows, bites her lip. Inhale, exhale. "How did it happen?"

"He went after Loki."

_Fucking idiot. Going after a fucking god._

"He's on his way to a facility. Jet's waiting."

"The kids?"

"You'll meet them there."

"Melinda, I'm sorry."

She doesn't reply, just hangs up. Phil was dead. _How the fuck was he so fucking stupid?_ Maybe if she had been there. In the field. By his side, like always. Maybe she could've stopped him.

Or fought with him. They were partners. She should have had his back.

_"__Specialist work is different from field work." Melinda says from the doorway. They've just gotten their orders – first mission as a unit._

_"__I know." Phil sets about loading his gun. "I can handle it."_

_"__I'm not saying you can't." She really means it, has seen what he's capable of. But he's got that paper-pusher/diplomat look going on and she feels this intense need to protect him. "Just that it's different – specialist training –"_

_"__Rivals Chuck Norris' warm up. I can hold my own." He says, strapping the vest on. "And you'll be there anyways. There's no one I trust more to have my six."_

It was easier to hide, to pretend, to let things go unsaid when no one's asking. She doesn't want them to. Melinda hates hearing it, the polite and timid "how are you doing"; the "how are you feeling".

Those "I'm sorry for your loss". Or just "I'm sorry".

And those concerned looks.

She's just lost her best friend, for fucks sake! How did they think she was feeling?!

_Melinda replaces the phone in the drawer – only it was suspended within jiggling pink Jell-O. There's a bird call. Phil. She barely manages to leave everything the way it was and escape out the window._

_Phil's waiting for her on the steps of the building._

_Wilson reacts in less than a minute, his heavy footfalls thundering down the stairs. "Run!"_

_She doesn't argue and they're both sprinting towards the gym. Phil leans against the side, "Time out."_

_"__Thanks for the warning."_

_His grin is wide and toothy. "Anytime."_

No. She won't go there. She exhales slowly, trying to focus on her movements. Lifts her hands, brings them down. Pushes them out. Knees bent. Controlled, smooth transitions like water, flowing without hesitation.

Emotions were like a dam, once released just doesn't stop. And she can't afford that – not now at least. _Not ever. _Her breaking apart won't help anyone. Phil wasn't here anymore, their glue was gone.

She had to step in – she was stepping in.

Inhale, exhale. Let the tension slip away.

Skye was barely holding on as is. Ward wasn't any better. The ground had vanished from under them, Melinda wasn't going to let them fall, she was going to catch them; she's too tired to pretend – they were her kids too.

She steps onto her right foot, adjusting the left. She can't afford to lose it. One hand raised and one by her hip. She's always been strong and she will continue to be strong.

She was the fucking _Cavalry_ after all.

_She did what needed to be done. It was their men inside and a little girl, an innocent. Get them out to safety. Away from danger._

_Her hands are still shaking. Her entire body is trembling. She hasn't stopped – not since it ended. She ended it._

_It wasn't even a combat op! It wasn't supposed to be. It was one of those missions that were supposed to be easy as pie. It wasn't a combat op._

_And she should've realized that things rarely go according to plan._

_She'd left after – once she was sure everything was okay, that the little girl was safe, that their men were unharmed. She didn't want to stay, to see what damage she's done, what carnage she's leaving behind in her wake._

_What did it matter? She'll be seeing it. The blood – so much blood. In her waking hours. The dead, glassy eyes. In her nightmares. The screams. Begs. Pleads._

_"__May?!"_

_Her hands hastily wipe at her eyes. No one was supposed to find her here! Fucking Coulson._

_He's shoving at the door. It opens with a bang, ricocheting off the wall stirring up a cloud of dust. The harsh white light falls onto her, "Oh God. Mel," he gasps, rushing to her side._

_"__I've been looking everywhere! Why the fuck would you take off like that? Do you know how worried I was? No one knew where you were and now you're here in this – whatever this is – it's fucking freezing!" He's draping his suit jacket over her, wrapping her in his arms._

_Her fingers latch onto him and instead of pushing away, anchoring herself to him. "Hey," his voice is softer, "it's okay. It's over. You did good."_

_"__I don't even know how many."_

_"__You did what you had to do."_

_"__I killed, Coulson." She spat._

_It wasn't supposed to happen but you saved them, May. That little girl is still alive because of you. She gets to go home, sleep in her own bed and her parents – they're so grateful. She's alive, Mel, and it's all because of you."_

_It's supposed to make her feel better. An innocent, a child. But it doesn't._

_Her ledger is flooded with red; spilling over._

_"__You didn't hear them! You didn't hear what they said."_

_"__No, I didn't." Coulson tightens his hold on her. His next words are so soft she has to strain to hear them, "But trying to hold onto this life with all this hanging over you, trying to live by that illusion, of that person you thought you could be – you'll be reliving your own hell, every minute of every day."_

_"__I'm supposed to just forget it ever happened?"_

_"__You can't undo what's been done, Mel. Can't run from it. That'll be with you forever. But you can let it go. Don't let it consume you."_

_"__Just let go."_

She does. Her entire body does. Her legs give away and she's a crumpled heap on the floor. The tears she's been holding back, been fighting all day flow freely.

Melinda hates crying. She knows she's a hideous crier, with loud sobs and all that snot.

Fucking Coulson. And his stupid fucking need to always do the right thing. She should've stopped him. Told him he was being stupid, that there were people trained for the job.

That he wasn't one of them.

That she was trained for this.

All those ops – all those years – and when it mattered, she was stuck in an office. Chained to a fucking desk. Stapling fucking papers.

"May? I heard – Jesus. Shit. May!"

What good was being the _Cavalry_ when she couldn't save the one that mattered most?

She feels hands pulling her up, pushing away at the hairs sticking to her face. She blinks twice, through the tears seeing a worried Ward. "Mom?"

"Skye!" Ward's frantic by now. He's holding her trembling body to his – he was wrong, he's never seen May this vulnerable and he doesn't know what to do. _What was he supposed to do?_ "SKYE!"

She should've been there. To stop him from being stupid. To make him realize what he was leaving.

"What – Mom!" Melinda feels her arms loosen from around her as Skye worms her way between them, "Mom, we're here."

She should've had his six. And maybe then he'd be here. With his family.

Celebrating the victory. Not mourning his loss.

_Melinda May doesn't curse when she falls, she laughs because God, she's just slipped on the marble floors of the SHIELD lobby around agents – _senior agents_ – and wow, she can see the sky through the glass ceiling._

_"__Are you okay?"_

_She raises her head to face a man – no, boy – he couldn't be that much older than her. "Yeah, I'm good."_

_"__Need a hand?" She takes it, allowing him to pull her up. No one's looking anymore – it's business as usual._

_She feels a bit out of place despite the fact she was dressed exactly like them. He's in a suit too but it's ill-fitting – not like her own, her mother had made sure of that._

_Maybe it was the faces, they all looked like they had someplace to be and no time to get there. Or that they were always constipated. _

_Or the shades they all had. She was definitely going to get a pair._

_"__You're new here."_

_"__What gave it away?"_

_He grins. "Stay here too long and people forget how to have fun."_

_"__Well, stick with me and it'll be laughs all around."_

_"__I'm holding you to that." He sticks his hand out, "Phil Coulson."_

_"__Melinda May."_

How had she fucked up so bad? "I'm sorry."

"God, I'm so sorry."

She wants to beg for her best friend to come back.

She can't keep things together - doesn't know how to – it's what Phil's always done.

Keep her whole when everything's in too many pieces. She doesn't know where to start. Doesn't know where anything goes.

_God, send him back_.

* * *

**AN: So this was the most difficult chapter to write - like I couldn't get into May's head to even come close to figuring out how she would react. And this was the nth version of her chapter, fun fact I got the kick to write this whilst almost face-planting whilst trying to do yoga at 3am. Do leave me your thoughts :)**


	11. bring your kids to work day

**AN: This one is A LOT silly but I was re-watching Eye-Spy and this just came to mind and I couldn't resist. I'm on twitter now guys, same username should any of you feel bored or something and wanna tweet me stuff like maybe prompts or just say hi :)**

* * *

"Is it a person?"

"Yes."

"Captain America!" Skye and Ward yell.

"There are other people, Phil." May rolls her eyes. "Ward, you next."

"Is it a person?"

"No."

"Is it an animal?"

"Skye, we take turns," Coulson says, "Is it an animal?"

"Yes."

"Is it a mammal?" May asks.

"Yes."

"Can we keep it as a pet?"

"No." Ward gives her a pointed look.

"I meant we as in other people, not necessarily us."

"Still no. And that's two."

"Is it a carnivore?"

"Yes."

"Is it bigger than a cat?"

"No."

"Is it a tarsier?"

"No. And you're wasting your questions."

"They're my questions."

"Don't start - hold up. Coulson. Uh huh."

"I can ask whatever I want."

"Yeah, well you'll never get the correct answer."

"Excuse you - have we forgotten that I am reigning champion."

"It was one time, Skye! And it was a lucky guess."

"Nope."

"Who was it?" May asks in a low voice. "Fury?"

Coulson nods, placing his phone in his jacket. "It's on the way."

"Gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Take a left."

May nods before averting her eyes to the rearview mirror. Coulson groans, turning around in his seat. "It's just a pitstop."

Skye was leaning against the door, feet tucked under his Ward's thigh. "You said no work."

"I know I promised but Fury just needs me to oversee a few things. 15 minutes tops."

"Sure."

"Like I said, 15 minutes. And then we'll get back on the road. I'll even turn my phone off."

Ward raises an eyebrow, arms crossed.

"Ok, I'll tell them to take a message."

"Yeah right."

"15 minutes, guys. Down to the second."

"I'm timing." Ward says as he begins setting up his watch.

"When we get there, you will be on your best behaviour." May says. "We have to work with these people and any misconduct will reflect badly on Coulson."

* * *

Coulson and May head straight to where the local police stood, badges out as the two trailed behind awkwardly. Ward readjusted his cap as Skye fiddled with the hem of her denim cutoffs. "Sir?" The cop asks, taking them in.

"They're with me." Coulson waves him off.

"Go nowhere. Stay in sight. Touch nothing." May warns them. "Skye."

"What? Ward's here too."

She glares. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, May." They said in unison.

"So this totally sucks." Ward nods.

"Agent Coulson, Agent May."

"Detective Banks."

"Do we have any leads?"

"None, sir. We're still working on surveillance."

"Eyewitnesses see anything?"

"No, ma'am."

"Who could've pulled this off without anyone seeing."

"And in broad daylight." Coulson adds. His face holds the usual frown when he's trying to figure something out. "Yes, Skye?"

She lowers her hand, "Just an idea. It might be a bit crazy but hear me out. There are people with superpowers, right? Well, what if this guy can become invisible." May and Coulson stare at her, faces stoic, eyes unblinking. "Okay maybe not. I'm just gonna stand over there."

"Yeah, we'll be over there." Ward says, tugging on her arm. "Invisibility, really?"

"Oh please, like they haven't seen weirder things."

* * *

May has that tingling feeling, it's unpleasant and she knows exactly what's wrong. She straightens, catching Coulson's eye and sees him sigh. They turn to the stone bench and sure enough, Skye and Ward were nowhere to be seen.

_Damn it._

"Find them." She orders the cop closest to her.

* * *

Ward's shrugging the cop's hand off his arm, pulling Skye closer to his side when Coulson approaches, with May trailing behind, both clearly displeased.

"Explain yourselves."

"They had to get in and out undetected."

"You said invisibility wasn't possible."

"And people don't just disappear so –"

"We walked around a bit. Ward found the tunnel."

"It's connected to the sewers, probably some kind of emergency exit thing. Abandoned by the looks of it."

"You went inside?!" May trills.

"No. Ward couldn't fit. And he wouldn't let me go in."

"The guy could've still been in there!" Ward protests before seeing Coulson's expression and continuing, "And we found this." He holds up a metallic disc between two pieces of tissue.

"We didn't want to contaminate anything. And Ward has pictures of where we found it."

"It was wedged in, prevented the door from closing. That's how we found the tunnel."

"It was abandoned so Ward thought the building on the other side had to be super old too."

"Skye looked up the history. The Gregor building is as old as the bank. She's got the cameras."

She holds up Ward's phone, holding a screen capture of a man's face. "That's the guy."

"His shoes." Ward says before they could ask. "Everyone else wears the office kind. He's in boots."

"Well, I'll be damned." Detective Banks said.

"Now can we please get back to vacation time?"

"Yeah, we're on 23 minutes and 56 seconds."

"Did we just solve a crime? I think we did." Skye high-fives Ward, "Go team Skyeward!"

"Hold up, why is your name first?"

"Because Wardskye sounds really stupid. And there's no flow. Wardskye," She mimes balancing with her hands, "_Skyeward_. It is way better."

Coulson rubs his face tiredly, "Go wait in the car."

"You've some good kids there, Agent Coulson. I'd say we have more than enough to go on."

* * *

"You are not off the hook," is the first thing Coulson says when he and May enters. "That was very irresponsible of both of you."

"You could've been hurt." May says. "Or they could've taken you hostage. And we wouldn't know what had happened!"

"We're sorry."

"Never again. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Coulson says, buckling his seatbelt. "Now, can it swim?"

"Yes."


	12. family traditions

**AN: I've purposely avoided any heavy stuff (the angst pit is a hard one to climb out off) and this one's been sitting in a folder for a long time. **

**Thank you to all of those who've read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story. I seriously did not expect this so a thousand thank yous! You guys rock. And if I haven't updated in a while, feel free to tell me to stop being lazy and write ;)**

* * *

"Is it bright enough? Or do you think I should use flash?" Coulson asks.

Ward makes a non-committal sound from his armchair, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. But he was _not_ sulking. Or brooding. It's just his default mood.

Coulson's messing with the room's lights now, testing the flash before dismissing it and adjusting the dimmer. He repeats it a few times, muttering to himself and occasionally asking for Ward's opinion.

He jumps from his seat the moment the doorbell rings. Ward schools his features before opening the door. "May?"

May pushes past him, heading straight into the living room. "Sorry about this, Phil."

"Hey Gram." Lindo May blinks up at him, grabbing his jaw in her hand forcing him to bend forwards. She tilts his face this way and that.

"You shouldn't frown so much." She smiles fondly, smoothing his forehead. "Or your handsome face will look like mine. All wrinkled like a prune."

"What are you talking about, Gram? You don't look a day above 30."

"Such a charmer." She pinches his cheek as Ward links their arms. "How are your classes? Are you doing well?"

"I'm training with Agent Barton now."

"Barton?" She turns to Coulson. "Your other stray?"

"Mom." May rolls her eyes. "Leave him alone."

"I hear from Maria that you have the highest scores –"

"Since Romanoff." Coulson says.

"Keep working hard. And stay out of trouble."

"Me? Trouble? I think you're confusing me with Skye."

"Hey! I heard that. Gram!" Skye practically shoves Ward to the side. "I missed you. Did you come just to see me off?"

"I was in town and thought I would visit."

"She flew here." May stage-whispers to Coulson.

"What are you wearing?!"

"AC! Are you kidding me? You said I could pick whatever."

"Well, when you said you were buying a dress, I was expecting a dress. Not this –"

"Underwear is not acceptable in public. Phillip, why would let her out without clothes?"

"It's a dress, guys!"

She walks around Skye. "This is not a dress. There's not enough fabric."

"I'm with Lindo on this." Coulson says. "You're not leaving the house in that."

"Ward?" He shakes his head. "Mom, help. Please."

May hands over a sleek black velvet box.

"It's much better." Lindo assures, "Go on. Open it." There's a deep purple cheongsam with gold accents depicting dragons and phoenixes.

"Holy shit."

"Don't cuss."

"Sorry, Gram."

"It's tradition and this one is yours. We were saving it for a special event." May says softly. "Now seemed like the right time."

"I – I have to change. AC, stall."

"I told you this would happen. You don't need to thank me."

"I was – thank you."

"I said no need."

Coulson grins at the exasperated look on May's face as she follows Skye upstairs. "Thank you, Lindo."

* * *

Skye's date is 3 minutes late, prompting another rant from Lindo ("What kind of man comes late? Gentlemen are never late. Remember that, Grant."). She ushers him into the living room where Coulson continues to deliberate over the best setting ("Twilight, soft skin or soft snap? Maybe just automatic,") as Ward assembles his sniper rifle, adding generic comments and nods at appropriate intervals.

"Sit down."

"You are taking my granddaughter –"

"Uh – yeah. I'm Skye's date." The guy squirms slightly in his seat, adjusting his tie.

Ward smirks. Leave it to Grandma May to scare the crap out of anyone. "What do you do?"

"I'm a student. Honor roll. I play a bit of baseball."

"Hmm. And what do you want with my granddaughter?"

"I –" There's a loud click as Ward slides in the magazine, grinning as he sees him tug on his collar. "Uh – we're just friends. Just friends."

"Greg!"

The barrel slips from his fingers when his eyes land on Skye. Gram was right. This dress did look better. And the pageant queen makeup was gone, it was natural looking. She looked elegant, dignified and a classic kind of beautiful. Ward turns back to his rifle as she moves to her date.

"Sorry about the interrogation."

"It's okay." Her date laughs nervously. "You look great. Ready to go?"

"Pictures first!"

Skye wears the brightest smile as she stands between two generations of May women, kisses Coulson's cheek when May takes the camera and there are a few posed pictures of her and her date.

"Dad, enough."

"One more." Coulson says. "Grant!"

"No."

"Grant, it's a special night for Skye."

He groans, dragging his feet to her side. Skye slips an arm around his waist. "C'mon, Robot, you heard Gram. It's a special night. Now turn that line into a smile!"

He makes a face at her. Skye pokes at his mouth with her finger, pushing it up before facing the camera.

Coulson goes over the usual hurt-my-daughter-and-I-make-your-life-hell speech with May to his left, her face stern, murderous and simultaneously expressionless. Skye turns to Ward, voice lowered, "Do I look alright?"

"Beautiful." He replies.

Skye mock-gasps, "Was that a compliment?"

"A comment."

"A nice one."

"An honest one." Ward says, tucking a loose tendril behind her ear. "If he tries anything, you tell me, okay? And –"

"You'll break his arm off?" Skye finishes, hugging him. "I know, Ward. Thank you."

"Anytime."

(Neither notice as Lindo snaps a photo.)


	13. H2O

May turns the bend into her mother's backyard, squinting slightly as she takes in the figure on the porch swing. Too early to be Skye. Too tall to be her mother. There's a loud bark before a small chocolate Lab comes running circles around her feet. She crouches to scratch behind his ears, smiling as he leans his head into her hand.

"You're looking a bit parched." Ward says.

"Run 10 miles and tell me how it feels."

"Can I go with you tomorrow?"

"If you can keep up."

"Challenge accepted. Skye!" He calls, tapping on the sliding door. "Get May water."

"Skye's up – now? It's not even 8." May remarks, perching on the ledge. "Did you do the alarm clock thing again? You know that's only -"

"No, I didn't. Coulson made pancakes."

"He's back?" She didn't recall seeing Lola in the driveway. And the red Corvette was pretty hard to miss.

"Got here about 20 minutes ago."

"Morning May!"

"About time. May needs to re-_hydrate_."

Skye empties an entire bucket of water on Ward. May barely manages to jump away, some of the _ice cold_ water making contact with her arm and shins.

"WHAT THE F-SKYE!" He sputters, shuddering like a leaf. "You were supposed to get May!"

"Oops." She grins, "I guess I missed. You know how _bad_ my aim is."

"I am going to –"

May smirks, "And this is why you don't mess with –" the end of her sentence is an ear-splitting screech as water drenches her from head to toe. She pushes her hair apart, wiping it away from her eyes to see Skye high-fiving Coulson, "Nice one, Dad!"

"_Phillip._" Her eyes narrow on him and he has the audacity to smile. _Oh, he was dead_.

"Uh oh." Skye squeaks.

Coulson has his arms out, shielding Skye as she peers from behind him. "Now, now, guys, let's be good sports. It's all for fun."

"Hey Ma," Ward says, shaking the water from his hair, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

May follows his eyes to the huge body of water behind them. _Excellent_. Her lips curl up into the smile again, "I think I am."

Coulson watches them with slightly panicked eyes, clearly catching the drift. "Oh no, May, don't. No. Grant, I'll ground you, I'm serious, I mean it. A week."

"It's all for fun." She mimics in the deathly calm tone.

"Mel, no. Mel, come on. This is a very nice suit."

"There's always the dry cleaners." May says, making brief eye contact with Ward.

She nods and they charge forwards. Ward grabs Skye around the middle, looping an arm around Coulson as May does the same on the other side, sending them barreling into the pool. There's a loud splash and a scream from Skye as they land in the water.

"Anyone want to tell me what this is about?"

"Happy Birthday!"

"A card would've sufficed."

"But this was _way_ more fun."

"Yeah, if you had followed the plan." Ward says, lunging at her.

"Dad, don't let Ward take me!"

She swims over to the edge, sitting on the step, taking in the scene before her. Coulson looked ridiculous, wading in his suit with Skye clinging to his neck, both being jostled around as he attempted to protect her from Ward.

"5 more minutes and then I want all of you changed for breakfast."

"Okay, Gram!"

"May!" Coulson yells as both Skye and Ward attempt to dunk him, "Backup – needed!"

She shakes her head as they succeed, swimming over to help. Maybe. He did dump water on her.

"Guys," She says in that stern tone, "You're doing it wrong," watching as Coulson's eyes widened in shock.

Now they're even.


	14. i'll hold you down

**AN: When I outlined the possible scenes for two pieces, this wasn't one of them but Ward has a mind of his own and this happened.**

**Thank you to all of those who've read, reviewed, favourited and followed. :)**

* * *

"Ward?" Skye rubs at her eyes, blinking a few times. "Where're you going?"

She takes in his appearance (suit, tie and shoes that he polishes till they shine). But they weren't supposed to come in, Fury himself had ordered the minimum two-week leave. Although for accuracy's sake, it was more a suspension where he threatened both Ward (guard duty) and Skye (_the bracelet_) should they go anywhere near anything SHIELD.

"Did we get a call? I thought Hill said no missions until next week."

"She did. But things came up."

"Why didn't you wake me? Give me 20 minutes!"

Of all the times he chooses to let her sleep in. Her mind's already making a list, allocating time, taking inventory of her things when he calls her name. "You're staying."

"Come again?"

"It's just me."

"I don't think I heard you right because you said that it's just you,"

"You're not coming with me."

"Well, that's – weird. We're partners, package deal. Where you go, I go."

"We're not partners, Skye. I was your SO."

"Not officially but almost – you said 'was'. Why 'was'? That's past tense and you're still my SO."

"If you want to continue training, you'll be reassigned a new one."

"Ward, I don't want a new SO! Did we fail an eval? Is that why? There's got to be a mistake, we're fine, let me talk to them."

He knew there was a possibility this would happen, had played out the various scenarios, the many ways he could tell her but his mind's a blank. And if he's being really honest, he had been hoping to avoid this scene altogether.

(Of course Skye would be up at 6.15am without him waking her on the one day where he didn't want that to happen.)

"I put in a request."

"I don't understand, why would you ask for this?"

"I'm going back into the field – no team, solo missions." He says. "Hill's got a place for you at HQ. With everything that's happened, the Rising Tide's going to have a field day, they're going to need all hands on deck."

"Wait, hold up, why wasn't I informed of this?"

"We decided that -"

"This 'we' obviously wasn't me and you. Unless I somehow got a head injury that conveniently erased that part of the discussion where we reached this decision."

"I decided and May agreed -"

"Without consulting me? What the hell, Ward! Do I even get a say in this?!"

"Skye, this is the best course of action."

"It is not! What is this even about? You said I was ready – that we'd finally get to go on a proper mission. Together."

"I know what I said –"

"Were you lying? Were you ever going to let me in the field or am I just going to be running back end?"

"I didn't lie," Ward grits, "But things change."

"Is this about the last mission? The intel was flawed."

"Skye, what happened then wasn't your fault –"

"Then what is it?"

"It's dangerous in the field –"

"I read the terms and conditions before I signed on!"

"- anything could happen –"

"You don't trust me to have your back." She realizes, "Are you afraid I'll just be a burden," she pokes him in the chest, "that I'll just fuck up everything and it's Superward to clean up the mess?"

"What? Skye –"

"If you don't want me there, you should've been honest from day one. I get it okay, you're sick of having to watch over me all the time." Her palms are pushing against him now, shoving. "Poor Ward, always saddled with babysitting Skye. You could've just said something instead of wasting –"

"SHUT UP!" Ward roars. He has her wrists in a vice grip. His warm breath washes over her as he forces himself to calm down, his voice is softer when he speaks next. "I would never not want you there."

"I trust you with my life, Skye. But I don't trust myself to be able to keep you safe out there – I can't – watch over everything."

"I can handle it, Ward." She feels the tears threatening to spill over, he doesn't get to make her cry about this.

He's the one who can't.

"I've already lost Coulson." He swallows thickly, "I am _not_ going to lose you too."

"You're not. We're partners, we have each other's backs." She decides, "I'm going with you."

"No. You're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No."

"It's dangerous out there!" She grabs his arm. "You said so yourself. What if something happens to you?"

"I can take care of myself."

"I'll run back end, stay in the van, the room, plane – whatever you say, I'll do it. I won't argue I swear. Just let me go with you."

"I need to keep you safe." He counters, unfurling her fingers from the lapels of his jacket. "We're not talking about this anymore, Skye."

The book hits the wall, inches away from his head. It falls to the floor with a thud that echoes in the room. He allows himself a moment to collect himself, to school his features before turning to face her, shoulders shaking with barely repressed anger.

"Take the rest of the week off. Report to Hill on Monday."

"Grant Douglas Ward, don't you dare walk away from me!"

"Ward!"

He doesn't look back.


	15. cover your tracks

**It's been a while since I last updated this. Cameron pretty much demanded that I do so. Your move, Cam.**

* * *

"Ward!"

Skye frowned, curling her hand into a fist to pound against the door. "Ward! Open up!"

"I'm busy."

"Ward!"

The door opened a crack, just enough for his head to poke through. "What?"

"Gram sent me to get you. It's lunchtime."

"Not hungry yet. Tell Gram to save me some."

"O –" the door closes in her face, "-kay."

She rubs at her nose.

**xxx**

Skye pushes past him, heading straight for his desk. She knew something was up, Ward's been acting weird, all anxious and jumpy every time either she or Gram came near his room. She lets the chair spin, looking around, nothing was out of order. Everything in its rightful place.

"What do you want?" Ward repeats.

"Company."

"For what?"

"I'm bored. Wanna play Battleship? I'll let you win," her forehead wrinkles slightly, "twice. Maybe."

Ward rolls his eyes. "No thanks."

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Skye shakes her head, "Nothing. Chess?"

"No. You just move random pieces."

Skye pulls the chair with her feet, pushing the curtain aside. It was raining heavily. "This sucks. Can we please do something? Like watch a movie?"

He's about to answer when Skye suddenly jumps to her feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Really? That sound – I think it's coming from," she says, looking under his bed, "Weird. Oh! There – you hear that?"

"Nope. I think you're just tired."

"I'm fine." She insists, looking around the room.

Ward intercepts her as she moves to the closet, "It's nothing. Probably the computer." She's about to tell him it was off. "Go pick a movie. I'll be there in a bit."

"But –"

Skye yelps when he grabs her by the arms and lifts, dropping her just outside his door. "Popcorn," he says, "go make popcorn. 5 minutes tops."

For the second time in two days, he slams the door in her face.

**xxx**

Skye scrunches her nose, batting away whatever it was bugging her. She didn't want to be awake at an ungodly hour during the holidays. It better not be Ward, he was always coming up with stupid ways to do so; the latest was the ridiculous clock that sounded like a fire alarm (needless to say, Coulson was not amused).

"No." She protests, trying to tug her blankets. "Go away."

He's persistent. "Ward!" She yells, sitting up.

Her room is empty. _Weird_. Skye doesn't let her guard down, peering over the edge of her bed. Nothing. She's about to go back to sleep when something jumps into her lap, causing her to jerk backwards, hitting her head against the headboard.

"Ow," she rubs at the spot.

Holy crap. There was a puppy, looking up at her with huge round eyes and a lolling tongue. It rubs its head against her stomach, pawing at her blankets, whining.

"Hey, little" she lifts the dog, "guy. What are you doing here?" She scratches behind his ear. "Are you lost?"

He didn't have a tag or collar but he did look pretty healthy. Someone's been taking care of him.

Skye pushes away her covers, tucking the dog in her arms as she pads through the hallway. Ward's door is ajar, she knocks anyway. "Ward, look – whoa. What happened?"

His normally neat-verging-on-sterile bedroom was in disarray and Ward looked frazzled. He turns to dismiss her and freezes.

"Ward?"

"How'd you find him?"

"He came to me. Wait, do you – oh my God. This is why you've been so freaked out – you've been hiding a dog –"

"Lower your voice. Get in," he hisses, pulling her inside. He surveys the hallway before closing the door, locking it. "You can't tell Gram."

Skye scoffs. "Why would I tell her? She'll make us get rid of him."

"Exactly why I've been keeping everything on the down low."

"You are not cool enough to say that."

"Where'd you find him?"

"What's his name?"

"Buddy."

"That's kinda boring."

"Hey, I found him, I name him."

"Fine." Skye rolls her eyes, lifting Buddy into the air before letting him nuzzle her nose. "What if he's someone's?"

"I checked. No posters or anything."

"He still could –"

"It's been three days. If they haven't noticed he's gone," Ward says, taking Buddy from her, "they don't deserve to have him."

"We should still check."

**xxx**

They waited until Gram left to the grocers before going from door to door, looking for Buddy's owner. It took them a good hour to cover the entire neighbourhood but if it eased Skye's guilt and they could keep Buddy, Ward didn't mind one bit.

"We should get him a collar."

They're in his room, Skye lounging on his bed with Buddy as he continues his search on the internet on how to take care of dogs.

"Nothing flashy or stupid." Ward warns. "Or pink."

"And a tag."

"Put a Captain America shield on it." He says absently. "Coulson would love that."

"That's genius! He'll let us keep Buddy for sure!"

"I was kidding." He knows it's a lost cause, Skye would've stopped listening by now. "Where are you even going to find one?"

"If there's a will, there's a way."

He doesn't doubt it. And if the Captain was all it took to tip the odds in their favour, he had no problems with that. "We'll go out and look tomorrow."

**xxx**

"Skye." Ward says, pulling her into the study, "I can't find Buddy."

"He was with you!"

"I know."

"Gram's home."

"I know."

"And," Skye groans, "you want me to be the distraction. What do you want me to do? Break something?"

"Distraction. Not get us grounded and possibly killed."

"How much time do you need?"

"I'll give you the signal when I'm done. Just do what you do best." Ward adds at her expectant look, "Talk."

Skye punches his shoulder. "You suck."

Ward pushes her into the living room where Gram was seated on the couch. "Hey Gram." Skye says. "You're looking gorgeous today. Did you do something with your hair?"

"Yeah. It looks very – uhm fluffy." Ward's voice is muffled.

Gram turns her head, Skye immediately stepping into her view. "Gram, I was watching this documentary yesterday –"

"Have you fed your dog?"

There's a loud thump as Ward emerges from under the dining table, "Dog – what – uh – there's –"

"No dog!" Skye assures.

"No. Nope. No dog."

"No. No. No."

"Did you see a dog, Skye?"

"No."

"Do not lie to me." Lindo raises the cup, sipping daintily. "Do you think I wouldn't notice a dog in my house?"

She lets out a little whistle and Buddy comes bounding from the shelf under the entertainment unit, straight onto her lap. Skye and Ward exchange a look as Buddy rolls over onto his back.

"Gram, we can explain,"

"I know you'll think its Skye's fault but it's not." Ward gives her a pointed look, Skye closes her mouth. "I found him. She didn't know until yesterday. He doesn't belong to anyone, we checked."

Gram's lips purse as she rubs Buddy's belly, "His things are in the kitchen," at their bewildered expression, she adds, "His water bowl, I already bought food and it seems that he likes the biscuits."

"Grant, you will have to install a door for him. And make sure that he is housetrained."

"You're letting us keep Buddy." It sounds like a question. "Is this real?"

"Ow." He rubs at his arm where Skye's pinched him. "What the hell?"

"Did that hurt?"

He glares. "Yes."

"Just to check that we're not dreaming or anything."

"I'm going to use the alarm on you tomorrow. Extra loud."

"I'll tell AC."

"You're not supposed to sleep past noon."

Gram clears her throat, "_I_ am letting you keep Buddy. But you will have to convince Phillip and Melinda when they return."


	16. irreplaceable

"Thanks for coming to get us, sir – Dad." Ward's still not used to saying it but he tries.

Coulson smiles, clapping his shoulder. "Family means nobody gets left behind." He looks pointedly at Fitz.

"Thank you, sir." Fitz replies, nodding before heading to where Simmons stands.

Ward looks up to see May by the railing, he nods, mouthing 'thanks'. May smiles. Really, who needs an extraction team when he's got the _Cavalry_ for a Mom?

"Did you just quote Lilo & Stitch?" Skye says as she approaches.

"It seemed appropriate." Coulson replies, "Get some rest, all of you."

He knows she was worried, can see it in her eyes as they take in the scrapes, her thumbnail that she's chewed within an inch of its life. "Hey," Ward offers her a small smile.

Her reaction isn't unexpected but he's still surprised all the same. Her arms go around his middle, squeezing tight as she holds on. Whenever Coulson returned from missions, Skye would simply hug him to reassure herself that everything was okay; it was the same for him when he joined SHIELD.

"I thought I lost you." She mumbled against his chest, her hands curl around his jacket.

He wraps his arms around her small frame, "Truth is, I was in good hands. Fitz," Ward tilts his head to the two scientists, "pretty badass. So don't think you're getting rid of me that easy."

Skye lets out a watery chuckle, "Promise?"

"Promise." He tightens his hold, resting his cheek against her hair.

"Good. They haven't perfected the whole human cloning thing."

He laughs. "Thinking of replacing me with a newer model?"

"You could use a few upgrades but," she shakes her head, "the original is always better."


	17. home sweet home

Phil sighs, twisting the key in the lock. It's been a long, difficult day and he is exhausted. All he wanted was his bed, a shower and food, not necessarily in that order. His stomach growls, maybe there was leftover pizza.

He's surprised to find a glow from the living room, it was way past their bedtime.

("I don't need a bedtime. That's for kids. Like Skye." Grant had argued, ignoring her indignant yell.)

The TV is still on, playing some old Western with the volume on low. Grant's on the couch, fast asleep with a book open on his chest with Skye on the other end, curled up like a cat. Buddy looks up from his spot on the armchair, raising a head to acknowledge him.

"Grant." Phil shakes his shoulder gently, drawing back when the boy jumps, hand out ready to strike. "Grant, it's me. Calm down."

He rubs at his eyes, blinking once – twice. "Coulson? What's – time?"

"Late. You two should be in bed."

"We wanted to wa–" Grant tries and fails to stifle his yawn, "wait for you."

"We'll talk in the morning."

"Okay. Night."

"I've got it." Phil says when Grant reaches for Skye. "Go on up."

"Coulson,"

He turns to the boy, one hand on the banister the other scratching his head. "Welcome home."

Phil nods, "It's good to be back." He gathers Skye up in his arms, chuckling softly when she shuffles to get comfortable.

He pulls back the covers, placing the fluffy purple bear in the crook of her arm before tucking the comforter around her shoulders. Skye blinks, eyes bleary, "Morning?"

"Still nighttime. Go back to sleep."

"'Kay." Skye snuggles into her pillow. "Night, Daddy."

Phil brushes the hair off her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Night, Princess."

He turns off the light, heading to the room directly across. Grant was sprawled on his stomach taking over the entire bed, face buried in his pillow, snoring softly. The book was still open by his side, Phil marks it with a pencil, placing it on the nightstand. He goes to grab the extra blanket in the closet, draping it over him.

Closing the door behind him, Phil heads to his own room, intent on catching as many hours possible before his day began again.


	18. take a little time

"I think it looks like a six-headed man on a duck."

Grant turns his head to face her, "No way."

"C'mon, see that's one, up there's another," Skye says, hand outstretched pointing at the night sky, "whole row of heads and the duck."

"That is not what it looks like."

"Really? Well, what is it then?"

Coulson had been assigned to monitor a SHIELD base and being a long-term job, had brought along both of them. Of course, they weren't allowed to wander into certain areas and Skye had to wear _the bracelet_ (Fury's condition). Located in the middle of nowhere, with land stretched out for miles in all directions, there wasn't really much to do.

Skye spent most of her time in classes (joining the kids of other agents) whilst Ward pored over SHIELD manuals. She would join him at the gym after, where he would attempt to teach her some basics in self-defence or she'd watch until it became too boring, then beg to leave. Ward was somewhat responsible for her and he didn't really want Coulson getting into trouble should something go wrong (things have a tendency to do so when they're involved).

And when night falls, they would climb up to the roof until Coulson came for them. With the entire night sky stretched out above them, it had become a game to find patterns within the stars.

"A peacock."

"Of course you'd say that."

"Okay, that one." Ward says, "Mountain goat."

"How imaginative of you."

"Just look."

"Where?"

"See those rows of stars, the sound waves travelling. All the way to the orca waiting on the other end," he pauses, "you know what they're saying?"

"Nope."

"Happy Birthday, Skye." He says in the most ridiculous impression of a goat.

Skye stuffs the sleeves of the hoodie into her mouth to stifle her laughs. "That's so dumb."

"You're welcome," he nudges her with his shoulder.

"Thank you, Ward."


	19. now that i've found you

"I missed you," he murmurs.

"You sap." She says, biting her lip to fight the smile.

Ward buries his face in the space between her shoulder and neck. He inhales her scent, letting his warm breath wash over her skin. He blows a raspberry against her neck, Skye lets out a yelp, immediately clamping a hand over her mouth. He tightens his hold on her waist when Skye tries to squirm away.

She peers over the edge, no one seemed to notice but she elbows him anyway. "Not cool."

It's late but the base was busy as always, rest was a luxury they could barely afford these days. He hasn't seen her in almost a week, Skye had left on a mission with May and he had his own with Trip. The moment they returned, he had whisked her away to their little spot. It wasn't much but they could see the entirety of the Playground's hangar from up there.

"What's going on in there?" Skye asks, tilting her head up to look at him.

"You know how they say that changing one thing, no matter how small can mess with everything else?"

"Do you regret this? Us?"

"What, no. That's not what I meant. I was - do you ever wonder how different things would be if Coulson hadn't come for us?"

She plays with his fingers, fitting hers between the gaps in his. "I suppose they would've moved me around, protocol and everything. I would've probably gotten myself in trouble with SHIELD anyways trying to look for my parents. Maybe join the Rising Tide."

Ward pulls a face, "You would join them?"

"If I didn't know better. C'mon, freedom of information. Democratization of knowledge. It probably would've appealed to me, considering what I was looking for."

"People keep secrets for a reason, Skye."

"I know, Ward." She says, exasperation clear in her tone. "That was purely hypothetical to answer the question _you_ asked."

"Sorry, it's just –"

"You don't like them."

"Dislike is such a mild, inaccurate word to describe how I feel about them."

"I know." Skye says, "What happens to you?"

"If my brother had his way, I'd be doing time. 10 – 15 maybe. I want to disappear."

Skye turns to face him. "You don't mean –"

"I don't know." His reply is soft. "Sometimes I think it's just too good to be true –"

"Like you'll wake up to realize it's just a dream."

"And I'll be back there."

"Grant, a thousand different things could've happened but it didn't. This," she squeezes his hand, "Dad, Mom, Gram, this is what happened. All of this, this is real."

"I know." His eyes are glowing a soft amber, her fingers trace his cheek where a bruise had formed. _I love you_. He presses a kiss to her palm.

She pulls his arm around her tighter, resting them on her stomach as she leans back into him. Ward drops a kiss to the top of her head. _I love you too._

"I'm glad I found you."


	20. every whisper, every sigh

**every whisper, every sigh (eats away at this heart of mine)**

Ward grins to himself when he finds her on the roof, leaning against the wall with her arms around her knees. "Can I buy you a drink?" He asks, holding up the thermos.

"Only if there are tiny marshmallows involved."

"Is there another kind?" Ward replies, settling beside her.

Skye pulls back the sleeves, wrapping her hands around the mug absorbing the heat. She watches the marshmallows bob in the drink, inhaling the chocolate scent. "This is heaven."

She takes a small sip, recoiling immediately when it burns her tongue. Ward takes the mug from her, "Every single time."

"Shut up. It's boiling hot."

Ward takes the cap off, setting the mug beside him. He looks to Skye, cheek pressed against her knees. He taps her upper arm twice, asking how she was doing.

"It's been a long day." She replies, reclining back to where his arm rests on the ledge.

Ward tucks her into his side, hand rubbing up and down her left arm. The hoodie she wore was ratty, a strange shade of bluish-grey and worn from years of washing; Skye had claimed it once he'd outgrown it.

"AC and Reyes did it." It's so out of the blue that he chokes on his mouthful, coughing violently. "You could feel the vibes. And she totally came onto him today."

"Yeah, so she could get his guard down. Then she tried to throw us out of a moving plane."

"But still, Dad's got game. I don't think even you could pull that off."

"That's inappropriate. God, what is wrong with you?"

Skye rolls her eyes. Suddenly she turns to him, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "You, checked her out."

"No!" Even to his ears it was unconvincing. "I did not."

"So you didn't even for a second consider," she raises her eyebrows suggestively, tilting her head. Ward takes a second longer to formulate a reply. "Ha! I knew it! I can't believe you lost to Dad."

"I didn't lose anything, there was no competition. I wasn't competing. No one was competing for anything." He insists. "And she's not my type."

"Okay then, what is your type?"

He shrugs.

"Let me guess. Redheads with killer moves."

"Are you ever going to let that go? It was just a crush. That I have gotten over."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Skye prods his cheek, "Come on, what is it? I really wanna know. Just a little hint."

"If I tell you one thing will you stop pestering me?"

"Cross my heart. But it has to be something good."

He ponders it over for a bit before saying, "Brunettes."

"But you've never dated one. A brunette, I mean. And Reyes was brunette."

"Not the right kind."

"It was the wrong shade?"

"No. Do you think I only consider hair colour?"

"You're the one who said it!"

"Well, I didn't mean it that way. It's just a feature I find attractive. But if I like a person, there will be other factors involved like friendship, trust and –"

"And?"

"Nice try." He pinches her nose. "You already got your hint."

"Ward," she whines, "You can't just – do that and then stop."

"You brought it upon yourself. We agreed on one."

"I didn't technically –"

"No, you said 'cross your heart'. Deal made. Transaction completed. End of story."

"But I need to know the parameters so I can help filter for you. Or I dunno, keep an eye out."

"This is not an invitation for you to become my wingman."

"Why not? You obviously –"

"I don't need help – with this. I'm fine. I don't have problems in this department."

Skye scoffs, "Yeah, no."

"I mean it. I'm doing fine."

"You have zero prospects right now. And not for lack of interest, mind you." Skye says, "I can't decide if you're deliberately being ignorant or that you're seriously oblivious to them. They're not even subtle about it."

"They are not what I'm looking for."

"And we are back to that."

"Give it a rest, Skye."

"It'll be easier if you just tell me."

Ward snorts, "Nothing with you is simple. Everything just snowballs out of control."

"Not true."

"I have approximately 13 years' worth of anecdotes on this. That time we were just going to the mall –"

Skye places a hand over his mouth before he can say anything else, "Okay, you've made your point."

"Thank you."

"But you should still let me help."

"Skye!" He's about ready to smash his head now. Ward pinches the bridge of his nose, takes two deep breaths, "Look, I don't need help because – because I've found her."

"Oh," Skye says, fidgeting with the string of her hoodie. "Well that's – pretty cool. Does she know?"

"No."

"Is she SHIELD? Probably, it's not like you do anything else but work. And there's no such thing as a rule about fraternization between agents, by the way. I checked."

"It's like an unwritten law. So in a way, there is."

"Yeah, but you're so professional about everything. Everyone thinks you're a robot or asexual or something," she stage-whispers, "and I personally think Fury would encourage you to pursue this."

"The fact that you think Fury is in any way concerned with my love life or the lack thereof, both confuses and terrifies me."

"Ignore that. What's the problem? Do you not know how to talk to her? Does she not know you exist –"

"It's complicated."

"Nothing is complicated."

"This is."

"Well, enlighten me then."

"We're done talking about this."

"Ward –"

"Nope. Let's just – not talk."

"Okay. But you know you can talk to me, right? Whenever, though preferably after 8 – no, 9am – unless it's really urgent. And about whatever."

He chuckles, "I know."

He rests his head against the wall, letting the gentle hums of the air-conditioner and the occasional roar of an aircraft passing lull him. He combs his fingers through her hair, "Don't fall asleep on me."

"I won't."

"Liar."

She hums in agreement, "'S not my fault. You're all warm and comfy. Like a pillow and radiator, in one. A heated pillow." She buries her nose in his shirt collar. "And you smell nice."

_Yeah, it was definitely complicated._


	21. whoopah

"You made the bed."

Skye waves a hand nonchalantly from where she was, staring at the ceiling. "Corners tucked in and all."

It was a habit he'd instilled in her. Skye had protested immensely at first, claiming that it was too much hassle (getting back into bed meant undoing everything anyways) and that the blankets were warmer when messy; a whole week had passed before she realized that she had been making her bed to his voice in her head, instructing her each step of the way.

"Good job, rookie."

Ward turns when something hits his back. " _Field agent_."

"Thanks." He says, picking up his balled up socks. "And still a rookie, to me."

"I _abhor_ you."

"I _adore_ you."

"You're incorrigible."

"You're –"

The amber light by their door blinks once, twice. Skye groans, head falling back onto the bed. "Let's just not go in."

"No can do."

"I know." She zips up her boots, peering through her hair, eyeing him appreciatively. "I think we can be a few minutes late." Skye moves to where he stands, digging through his dresser, wrapping her arms around his middle.

"_Skye_."

"What? Am I _not allowed_ to do this?" She presses open-mouthed kisses to his back, fingers idly tracing the skin of his abdomen.

"We'll be late."

"We literally live where we work."

"Is that so?" Ward asks, turning to face her.

"Yes," Skye says, wrapping her arms around his neck. She stands on her toes, kissing him softly. "It's like a two-minute walk."

Ward laughs, ducking his head to close the distance. His hands slip under the hem of her shirt, palms flat against her back, pulling her closer.

The light blinks red now, flashing rapidly. Her fingers are curled in his hair, "Minute – if we run," she mumbles against his lips.

Their phones begin beeping. " _Shit_." Loudly. Obnoxiously. "We're in trouble."

"I'm already dressed." Skye says, peering around him to look at the mirror, adjusting her hair.

"You are a horrible influence on me."

"You knew what you were signing up for!" Skye reaches into the drawer, pulling out the first shirt, pecking his lips. "Better hurry."

"You're already late!" She calls over her shoulder.

He shakes his head, chuckling to himself as he stares at the door and the shirt. _May was going to kill him._

**xxx**

Ward enters the briefing room to May's stern look, "You're late." He apologizes profusely, moving to Skye's side, steadily avoiding the knowing glances from Trip and Hunter. He could see her biting the inside of her cheek, adjusting her stance.

He nudges her foot, Skye peers at him through her periphery. _Watch your back._

She grins. _Bring it._


	22. I may be losing my mind

**AN: Have a dose of my ridiculous brand of humour (if you can ever call it that).**

**Summary: **Skye and Ward talk shipping. Or they try to. Ward's got no clue. (a.k.a. Skye ships Philinda and Ward should too)

* * *

"Psst." Ward turns, looking around the room. He shakes his head, imagining things again.

He's making his way past the dining room to the kitchen when there's a surprisingly strong tug to his wrist. He falls to his knees, looking up to see Skye. She's got that glint in her eyes– nothing good ever came with that!

"Get in." Skye says.

Yeah. He might as well cancel all his plans for the week.

Skye gets on her stomach, crawling underneath the table, she motions for him to follow her. He rolls his eyes but does so anyways. Their heads peek out from underneath the tablecloth, just enough to afford them a view.

"What are we –"

"Shh." Skye jabs him in the arm. "You'll give us away."

He does not get what the big deal was, so they can see into the kitchen – oh.

Ward grabs her arm, pulling them back into semi-darkness. "What did you do?"

"Firstly, _ow_." She shoves him back, rubbing at the spot. "Secondly, I didn't do anything."

"Didn't do anything big or didn't do anything at all."

Ward prays to whatever deity was listening that it was nothing big (although it sounded more like a mental note); he did not need another mark on his record.

"Your complete lack of faith in me is so reassuring." At his glare, she adds, "Nothing. I did nothing, okay? I did not mess with anything. Did not change anything – and we are missing it!"

"Missing what?"

"_That_!"

Coulson and May are in the kitchen. Ward cranes his neck trying to see what they're doing but it's nothing much; at least, nothing that should garner this much attempt at stealth. Neither of them have birthdays coming up, Christmas wasn't for a few months; he rules out Skye trying to get Coulson to cave on whatever she wanted him to buy for her. They're just having coffee and talking, he tells her so.

"Read between the lines, Ward."

"There is nothing to be read!"

"Look." Skye grabs his head, turning it to face them. "_Look_."

"This is a terrible vantage point."

"This is the only place where I can see them and they can't see me! Just tell me what you see."

"Coulson is obviously telling a joke since May's trying not to smile."

"And…"

"It's a really lame joke? Probably that one about the guy who's afraid of flying."

Skye closes her eyes, dropping her head onto her arms. "You are so hopeless."

"What?"

"No. You're just – I don't even want to."

Now he really wants to know. "Skye, tell me." She gives no indication of having heard him, eyes glued on the kitchen.

Fuck it. He wants to know. He hates himself for what he is about to do.

Ward pinches the bridge of his nose, "Oh great Skye, tell me what I do not know. Enlighten me so that I may no longer be shrouded by ignorance."

"When you put it that way. Okay, okay. _Do not flick me_!"

"It is so obvious that there is something there. Between them. AC and May. Mom and Dad." Skye says as the lines become more pronounced on his forehead. "Feelings. They're into each other. And also like they want to –"

Ward smacks her hand at the obscene gesture. "You're wasting my time." He says, pushing off the floor. He cannot believe he was dragged into this.

"No!" She grabs his arm. Ward faceplants into the carpet. "You are going to ruin the moment. Do not go about your cockblocking ways."

"I am not a cockblock."

"Oh please, you have the worst timing for a person. Learn to read the room before you enter!"

"I didn't know I had to scan the surroundings in my own damn house."

"Well you should. You are like that kid who runs into the parents' bedroom when they are trying to get it on."

He huffs, "How long are we going to be doing this? I'm hungry."

"Shhh. Don't be so selfish."

Ward rolls over onto his back, staring at the underside of the table. There were cobwebs. They really needed to vacuum. And clean the carpet, it smelled damp, mouldy in the way old carpets did; Ward breathes through his mouth.

**xxx**

"Skye, this is getting stupid. I mean, it was stupid before but it's been 15 minutes. And I have things to do that do not involve spending my day underneath the dining room table."

She waves a hand, "Philinda is happening right now. This trumps everything."

Do not ask. Do not ask. Ignore it. Don't – "What the hell is Philinda?"

"AC and May's ship."

"They have a boat?"

"Of all the – seriously?!" Skye throws up her hands in despair. "Ward. Grant, Grant, Grant. Grant Ward."

"I know my name."

"Grant Douglas Ward." She shakes her head, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You have _so_ much to learn, young padawan. And I guess I will have to be the one to educate you on life."

He should have kept his mouth shut.

"A ship, noun, short for relationship, is a relationship between two or more persons. It is almost always a romantic relationship though you can ship friendship. I think it's called friendshipping."

"Who the hell comes up with these terms?"

"In the case of AC and May, it is most definitely romantic. Every ship needs a name. But you don't want to come up with something stupid. For example, ours would be Skyeward."

"Which would also be your name if you took mine."

"Aw. Are you proposing?" Skye asks, pinching his cheek.

He pushes her hand away. "I said if."

"And here I thought you loved me." Skye grins before continuing, "It's not the same thing. Skye Ward, space in between, would be my name if I took yours but Skyeward, no space in between is our ship name. Theirs, as mentioned before, is Philinda from –"

"Coulson's name is Phil and May is Melinda, hence Philinda. You're just merging names."

"Good! You're getting it!"

He mimes cheering, earning a sneer.

"Next up. Shipping. Verb. The act of wanting two or more person to be together. By shipping Philinda, I am rooting for them to be in a relationship –"

"They are."

"No – what did you see?! Tell me!"

"Like they're friends."

Skye smacks his arm. "Did you not hear me say 'romantic'? Clean your ears, Ward."

"Stop that."

"Ok. By shipping _Philinda_, I am rooting for them to be in a _romantic_," she looks at him pointedly, "relationship. It also makes me a Philinda shipper. And you need to get on this boat."

"So there's a boat now?"

"It's a metaphorical boat. Ward, keep up. You can't be my first mate if you're pulling this bs."

He rubs at his face. He completely regrets the decision of waking up that morning as he listens to Skye explain the other different terms. He hears words like OTP, BrOTP, slash, crack ship, etc.

"You're getting a dictionary for Christmas."

**xxx**

May's eyes divert to the dining room. The tablecloth floated about two inches from the ground, just as it should.

"Think we should stop them?" Coulson asks.

She looks to him, eyebrow raised slightly.

"Yeah. They're probably in phase five by now. Might as well just brace ourselves for impact and get ready for the fallout. Good call."

She rolls her eyes, raising her mug in salute.

"To parenting."


	23. falling apart, pulling together

**AN: This is nothing new. It was previously posted as an outtake but I'm going to merge it because May is just as important as the other characters in this story and this plays a part in explaining her role in Skye and Ward's lives, what she is to them. **

* * *

She demotes herself to level 3, trading in views of different parts of the world from her cockpit for a desk with a computer and a lamp. Her thermos is by the edge, filled to the brim with piping hot coffee – "You'll need it," Phil grins.

Stapling interdepartmental memos were harmless. Stack the papers, align, staple. The thwack of the stapler putting together papers calms her, an indicator of a job done.

There are things to file. Data to input into fields. Boxes of reports to sort through.

She likes the routine, the monotony – it's comfortable.

* * *

Phil comes back, all smiles and it makes the entire place less dreary. He's talking about dinner, how she's coming with him even if he has to drag her there; not that he ever could, but she never fights.

She's glad for the company.

She likes their routine. If she's feeling a bit off, she lets herself pretend that this is what a normal life would be like – if she hadn't been raised in the life of espionage and was just normal.

She'd be a desk clerk. Phil would come home, talking about his job but never too much that he isolated her, just enough for him to share the other part of him.

They have a small house – it's just the two of them now, their kids were grown up. Skye would call often, complaining of all the ways Ward still acted robotic and Ward himself would be defensive, whining about how she pushed his buttons; Phil would chuckle, telling them to break it up and she'd remind them to come home sometime.

It's nice. She'd have a family.

Melinda continues to pretend.

* * *

It all stops after Portland. Phil's all smiles as usual but there's something else – he's dreamy, as if his heads somewhere in the clouds.

He tells her about the mission over Tom Yum as the flush spreads over his face, he's never been able to hold the spicy foods but the man loved it. There's something different. She's usually silent during this – today, she's trying to figure it out.

And then he says it. Her name. In a way she's never heard before.

Audrey. The cellist. The one he'd saved from Daniels.

He's bright-eyed, speaking animatedly his gestures rivaling the words and there's that dreamy tone again. She pushes her food at this point – her appetite's gone.

"She's moving to New York."

Her stomach drops.

It's selfish of her. He deserves to be happy. After all he's done for her, since the Academy, after Bahrain, he deserves this. Someone who could love him, and not be afraid to show it. Someone not broken, who doesn't wake up screaming at the blood that's long gone, fighting the demons that aren't there. Someone not her.

He's always been supportive – it's her turn. They're friends – best friends, she amends. That's what they do.

But she's selfish. If she can't have all of him, she'll settle for this. She wants this part of Phil, the part that's _hers_.

He wants them to meet. To introduce his best friend and his kids.

She smiles – it's tight, polite the kind she's seen her mother wear.

* * *

Audrey's nice. She's perfect for Phil – smiles almost as much as he does, genuinely laughs at his jokes, but she's calmer; Melinda doesn't miss the hand she places on his whenever he gets too excited and begins talking too fast.

It's awkward. She doesn't know what to say – and she's not sure there's anything to be said.

She feels a tap on her knee. "Alright, Mel?"

Skye's telling Audrey about the time she tried to learn piano, Ward laughs and then he's telling them about the orchestra he'd heard in Vienna. Audrey jumps into conversation just as Ward and Skye start to bicker, telling them the time she accidentally tripped on stage.

"She's great." Her reply is automatic – but it's sincere.

Phil grins. She forces herself to smile.

* * *

Phil's sending Audrey home, leaving Melinda sandwiched between Ward and Skye as they make their way back to the apartments.

"You were quiet," Ward says, "More so than usual."

Her eyes are locked on the road, watching the slight fog swirling, illuminated by the headlights as cars drive by. She can feel them exchanging looks, having that silent conversation she knows they're not even aware of.

Skye slips an arm through hers, snuggling closer. "It's alright. You're still our Mom." She grins at Ward who nods in assent, squeezing her hand.

Melinda hadn't realized she was afraid of that until then, turning to face Skye. The girl's eyes are big and brown as always but there's understanding. Skye knows. She drops her head onto Melinda's shoulder, as Ward links his arm on her other side.

Maybe nothing has to change.


	24. caught up in this moment

Ward looks around the place, keeping his gaze relaxed as if he was simply admiring the ambience. Three exits. One out back. Their target was seated towards the middle of the restaurant, sequestered in a booth with his guards placed at nearby tables. He counts six of them.

"They keep looking this way. The guards."

"Well, loosen up then. Don't be so Men in Black."

"I'm not."

"This is supposed to be a date. And you look like you have a stick up your ass."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Relax. Don't be that Ward. Be Grant, on a date. We're on a date, celebrating."

"I'll bite. What are we celebrating?"

"How typical of you to forget." Skye smirks. "It's our thirteen month anniversary, babe."

"Thirteen?"

"Half-truths."

"So you do listen."

"I always listen. After all, I am girlfriend extraordinaire."

"Course you are, sweetheart." He chuckles, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Have we got a name?"

"_Antonin Bodrov. Arms dealer._" Fitz replies.

"What does he want with?"

Ward shrugs. "Who knows? Have we got anything?"

She leans back into the seat, holding her phone between them. His fingers curl around her shoulder, thumb caressing her skin.

"Nope. Nothing to link them." Skye says. "They're thorough."

"Keep doing whatever it is you're doing."

"Got it."

**xxx**

"Skye,"

"Hmm."

His face is closer than she expected, noses almost touching. His hand cups her jaw, thumb tracing her bottom lip, tugging it slightly. Skye feels her heart race, watching as his eyes dart to her mouth. He leans forwards, lips almost brushing hers.

His eyes lock with hers, they're darker than she remembers.

"Grant," she breathes.

His mouth slants over hers, hands sliding into her hair to cradle her head.

"_They're gone_." Jemma chirps into their comms.

Skye's panting as she looks at him with wide eyes. She retracts her hands from his shirt, placing them in her lap.

Ward clears his throat, "Copy that. Leaving now."

_What the hell just happened_? Her fingers are shaking as she runs it through her hair – that Ward had mussed whilst _kissing_ her. Ward had just kissed her.

Not a forehead kiss. Not a cheek kiss. Her lips. He's just kissed her. Except it was more. Oh God. They've just made out.

_Shit._ That was a really good kiss.

"Skye," Ward says, "Ready?"

She nods. She's not even sure she can speak without sounding like Minnie Mouse right now. Ward takes her hand, laces their fingers together as they step outside.

**xxx**

"About today – what happened – it's – when we were – the kiss."

"Yeah, it's fine." Skye closes her eyes, willing her voice to be normal. "The kiss. It's fine. Our covers. Just got caught up in everything. We would've been blown if – yeah it was tactical."

"Tactical, that's it."

"They were walking past us. And like you said, they were already suspicious looking at us and everything. We had to. Kiss, that is. For our covers. So we didn't give anything away." _Stop talking_.

Ward nods, looking more and more like a bobblehead.

"Nope. No problem. Couples who have been together for thirteen years – months!" _Why is she still talking? How is she still talking?_ "People that have been together for thirteen months kiss. Thirteen months is a long time!"

"Yeah. Yup. That. So are we good?"

"Of course. Uh huh. We're good."

"Okay. I was worried –"

Skye laughs nervously. "What? Why would you – there's no awkwardness here." _SHUT UP._

"Did you want to use the," Ward asks, motioning to the bathroom.

"Yes. I was going to brush my teeth and wash my face because I'm going to bed."

"That's good. Me too, I'm going to go to bed too."

"Okay."

"Okay. I'm gonna go now."

"Night, Grant – Ward. Goodnight, Grant Ward." Skye says, punching his shoulder as she walks past.

"Night, Skye."

Skye enters the bathroom, waits for 5 seconds and peers into the hallway. The moment his bunk door slides close, she runs for Fitz's.

**xxx**

"Can we help you, Skye?"

"Fitz, get out. I need to talk to Jemma."

"Oi! This is my room."

"It is important!" She whisper-yells. "My mind is about to explode."

"Use Simmons' room then."

"Not possible."

"If I am being ejected from my room, I'd like to know why." He crosses his arms, expression defiant.

Skye rolls her eyes, "We cannot talk in Jemma's room because her room is next to Ward's room and he cannot hear what we are going to talk about. Now, get out!"

"Fitz, please."

The Scot pulls himself off the bed, grumbling under his breath. Skye slides his door close with too much force, causing Fitz to yell.

"Now, Skye, what has got you all ruffled?" She asks, watching as the girl paces small area.

"Ward and I kissed."

Jemma's eyes widen, mouth open and closing. "When? Today – during the mission?"

Skye nods. "Yes."

"Was it like a little kiss?" She motions with her thumb and forefinger. "Just a quick peck? Like when your Nan forces you under the mistletoe with Cousin Alfred?"

"His tongue was in my mouth. And then my tongue was in his mouth. There was tongue!"

Jemma gasps, "No."

"I know."

"What happens now?"

"Nothing. It was a fake kiss so we didn't blow our cover."

"This is not nothing! Skye, you have been –"

"I know, Jemma. I realize that."

"I'm sensing a but."

"But he was worried I'd take it the wrong way. Like it might mean something more." Skye groans, falling face first onto Fitz's bed. "So I just ranted – I could not shut up about it."

"What did you say?"

"The gist of it was that it didn't mean anything. I think that's what I said. Words were just flying out of my mouth."

"There, there," Jemma says, gathering Skye's hair in her hand. "I'm sure you two will work this out. After all, you've known each other for years, you grew up together –"

"Do you know what the worst part is?"

"Go on then."

"I always figured that I'd let it go once I realized how gross it is because we're like brother and sister. And kissing your brother would be totally gross, I mean I wouldn't know but I assume because God, you're related. You'd have to be super fucked up to be okay with making out with your brother. And kissing Ward was not gross. Oh my God, this is like some form of incest isn't it?"

"Skye, you and Ward are not related. We'll do a DNA test first thing tomorrow, if that'll offer you some peace of mind."

"That'd be nice. Thanks, Jem."

"Now. May we discuss what is important?"

"Sure." She mumbles into the bed.

"How was it?"

"It was so good. 11 out of 10. Like I always figured he'd be a good kisser but I was not expecting that."

"Oh."

"I'm ruined."

"That you are."

Skye groans.


End file.
